


It Can Be Any Way You Want

by Escapologist



Category: Actor RPF, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Bleed, Clubbing, Did I mention the miscommunication?, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Eavesdropping, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Miscommunication, More Sex, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Reference to Chris Evans / OMC, Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14864418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escapologist/pseuds/Escapologist
Summary: WAY BACK LAST YEAR, I saw an amazing piece of Stucky fanart which prompted this Evanstan pinefest to crawl out of my mind.While filming Civil War, Sebastian overhears a conversation that prompts him to confront his feelings for his co-star. He's just not completely sure what those feelings mean.THIS IS A REPOST. Somehow, thanks to an AO3 glitch, I managed to delete this whole story. I was absolutely distraught to lose all the kudos, bookmarks and precious comment thread discussions, as well as the pics and gifs and footnotes, and I'm not over it. I want to thank everyone who's ever been kind about this fic, your feedback meant the world to me and I remember who you all are!ANYWAY here it is again, just in case anybody still wants to read it. Please forgive formatting errors etc., I haven't the heart to go through the whole thing and correct them all. I can't remember when I started this story but I finished posting in October 2017 <3PS REPEAT KUDOS / COMMENTS ARE PASSIONATELY ADORED!





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian teeters on the brink of gay panic. Don't worry, Carlos will be there for him.

Sebastian felt superhuman. His body was charged with limitless energy. His ass felt incredible, like it was made just for this purpose: an effect he never would have expected. He remembered this from last time, the impending total loss of control. He knew he was about to come, that it was going to be a big one; earth-shattering, body-shaking and raw; but he wasn’t sure what excited him more – the whole-body orgasm, or the way he knew Chris would brush back his damp hair afterwards, tell him how good he felt, hold him close despite the mess of fluids they’d produced, and kiss him long and hard.

He noted, with a flicker of concern, that he might be craving the affectionate comedown even more than the peak. And that was saying something – the sex they’d had, just a handful of times now – had totally redefined pleasure for him. And that, of course, was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Physical exploration, physical fulfilment.

Chris’s mouth on his nipple was driving him insane. Involuntarily he brought his hand up to the side of Chris’s face, and felt the chafe of the prop prosthetic as he did so. That’s right, he’d almost forgotten. They were playing. He was Bucky right now.

“Buck… I can’t believe I’ve got you…” Chris was panting in his ear. The tremble in his voice coupled with the frantic pounding in his ass told Sebastian he was getting seriously close, and once again, just the thought of Chris coming inside him was enough to throw Sebastian over the edge. His thoughts were wiped out and his words broke free, tumbling out of his mouth like gibberish.

“Chr- STEVE! Oh, fuck, Steve! I love you so fucking much!”

He squeezed his clammy legs tightly round Chris’s waist and clung to him for dear life, lunging upwards to meet him in a scorching kiss before they both collapsed, Sebastian’s heart pounding against his sternum out of exertion and nothing else.

*

It was while they were shooting scenes for Civil War in Germany that Sebastian first became party to some information that piqued his interest.

He was feeling good. His scenes were going well and he was glad to be able to take on some of the stunt work himself, which somehow made him feel that his performance was more authentic. It was awesome to be here, too, with the colleagues that had become friends. Mackie was hilarious as ever. Scarlett got less intimidating and more fun the better he knew her. He was so proud that he could now count Robert Downey Jr as a friend, albeit mainly when their paths actually crossed. And of course, there was Chris. Awesome Chris. Awesome, friendly, talented, uplifting, handsome Chris.

Good times indeed.

He’d finished shooting for the morning, and though it was a little on the early side for lunch, he was hungry, and sometimes he enjoyed eating alone and zoning out. The catering tent was almost completely empty but fortunately the plain chicken and vegetables were already available, so he grabbed a plate, pulled on his headphones and found a seat a little distance away from the only other two people grabbing an early lunch.

He recognised one of the diners as Carlos, a youthfully handsome hair stylist with a vivacious personality, who was always up for a drink. The other man may have been a set dresser; he also looked familiar from the Cap movies. Sebastian nodded and smiled at Carlos, who answered him with a wink, before tapping his headphones and turning his back toward them, taking a seat a few tables away.

Sebastian chewed on his chicken, nodding along to Sigur Rós and dreaming of the day he could once again eat an entire pizza. The song came to an end and, as he picked up his phone to cue up another track, a snippet of the conversation going on behind him made him hit the pause button instead.

“So he’s ‘bisexual’?” Carlos’s friend was saying, with a bitchy, sarcastic tone.

“Don’t be such a hate queen!” Carlos replied, mock-outraged. “People can be bi!”

Sebastian grinned to himself. Carlos was hilarious, and notoriously open about his sex life. Yeah, he wasn’t being addressed directly this time, but the story was bound to be good. Anyway, Carlos had a loud voice and was making no attempt to be subtle.

“You know what I think about _that,_ ” retorted the possible set dresser.

“Well, he sure knows his way around a man’s body, I can _tell_  
you.”

The friend snorted in response. “Classic A-list closet case.”

Ooooh this was interesting! Suddenly Sebastian was heavily invested in this conversation. He kept nodding his head to give the appearance of listening to music, but slowed down his chewing so he wouldn’t miss a drop of gossip. It wasn’t often that he got to be the one in the know, after all. He wasn’t leaving until he had worked out the identity of the man under discussion.

“Not really!” Carlos was saying. “He doesn’t hide it, doesn’t broadcast it. Well, only to the truly _special…_ ”

Sebastian smiled to himself, imagining the smug look on Carlos’s face.

“Oh, you’re special now?”

“Weeell, he did use the old ‘Believe me, I _never_ do this.’”

Mr Set Dresser gave an exaggerated snort. “Yeah right!”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of _course_ I’m jealous!” the friend replied. “He’s _gorgeous_! Ohmygod, those _muscles_!”

“I know, and he’s so self-deprecating,” Carlos said, dreamily.

“Ugh, how disgustingly precious,” came the amused response. “Next you’re gonna tell me that the sex was amaaaaazing.”

There’s a silence, which Sebastian took to mean that A Look had been delivered.

“Oh no…” groaned the friend.

“I’m not kidding….” Carlos began, dramatically. “Best. Top. I’ve. EVER been with.”

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow.

“Are you for real? Because that is _quite_ an accolade.”

Sebastian has to swallow a chuckle at the friendly insult.

“Oh my God, shut _up!_ I’m not that bad!” gasped a faux-shocked Carlos.

There was another silence as The Look was returned.

“I’m serious, OK? Guy fucked me like he _loved_ me. Made sure I came at LEAST twice.”

Sebastian was impressed, now. His curiosity was intensifying. Carlos usually lived in LA, so the mystery A-list stud could be almost anyone. Unless…. Well, if this was a recent encounter, then it had to be someone on Civil War!

If that was the case, the list of candidates was suddenly a LOT shorter. Sebastian grinned to himself, trying to guess who the dark horse could be. Mackie? DOWNEY? Those guys were married. This gossip was going to be off the hook.

“No. WAY.”

“Yes. He has a mouth on him and he is not afraid to use it. Plus he’s hnnghkahmpf…”

Even Carlos had the decency to lower the pitch of his voice here, but Sebastian found it maddening. He was sure he made out a muttered ‘hung like a…’

“I have never been more jealous in my LIFE!” Exclaimed Carlos’s friend.

The hair stylist giggled. “I know, right?”

“So are you gonna, like, _date_ him?” 

“Don’t be nuts,” Carlos said, dismissively. “Nah, it wasn’t like that. We were clear from the start, obviously, since he’s such a fucking gentleman. He’s not looking for a relationship, I’m not either.”

“Yeah, right!”

“I’m _not!_ ” came the answering whine of protest. “Anyway, I think he’s got his eye on someone.”

“Can you imagine, though?” the friend thought out loud. “’Hot Latino hairdresser boy is talk of the Oscar red carpet on the arm of CAPTAIN AMERICA!’”

Sebastian sharply inhaled around a mouthful of broccoli and had to freeze every muscle to avoid a loud and conspicuous coughing fit. Thankfully the men behind him were laughing enough to cover his hasty throat clearances as he reached for his glass of water. What the fuck? his mind span. What the _FUCK?_

“It’s the dream!” Carlos’s friend was laughing in the background, oblivious to the bombshell he’d just dropped on Captain America: Civil War star Sebastian Stan. “America loves immigrants!”

“I’m from Ohio, you asshole!” Carlos snorted, between gales of laughter.

“You know what,” he continued, once he finally calmed down. “I actually wouldn’t want the drama. And to be honest he’s a bit clean-cut for me. Plus, you know I’ve sworn not to retire until I’ve had Jake Gyllenhaal.”

The two of them broke into hysterics at that, but Sebastian was still reeling. Chris was bi? Sebastian was sure he’d never mentioned this. They’d talked about… stuff. Why wouldn’t he…?

“I mean, not that I’d be averse to another round,” Carlos was sniggering, “But hey, last night will do me for, like, a _month._ ”

Last night! _Last night!_

“Carlos, I have never known you so satisfied.”

“Shut UP!”

Their conversation faded as Sebastian cleared his lunch tray and shuffled rapidly out of the cafeteria in search of fresh air. This news was _hilarious_. So why was it freaking him out so much? 

If he was honest with himself Sebastian couldn’t remember any more how he used to feel about men, generally, before he noticed Chris. Before he, y’know, took note of him. Of the muscles. The eyes. The effort he made to put everyone at ease. The ready laugh and willingness to open up, without demanding attention. The muscles. The amazingly physical, yet subtle performance as Cap. The eyes. The way he made you feel special when he focused on you. Did everyone get that feeling from him?

They got on very well, the two of them. It was a blast, working together, on such a great storyline. Had Sebastian felt quite so… interested in a dude before? He really wasn’t sure now. He’d kissed a few in drama school and during his chaotic early years in the business, but mostly out of drunken giggles rather than simmering passion, and he hadn’t taken things further than that. 

He had always felt that he had something a little bit special with Chris, without feeling the need to describe it, but to hear about this new side to him had thrown Sebastian completely. He felt oddly slighted, as if he should have known Chris was into guys, or prone to passionate one night stands while filming. But maybe he just considered his sex life private: Sebastian realised he wouldn’t be hearing about this latest hookup, as Chris was, of course, far too respectful of others to kiss and tell like that.

There was another layer to the sting he was feeling, though. Was he actually _hurt_ , that Chris hadn’t looked _his way_? Chris was affectionate, sure, and took a genuine interest in Sebastian all the time, but wasn’t that just typical of the guy?

Sebastian paced up and down in the German sunshine, trying to find the perfect track on his playlist to reflect his current emotional state: shocked, amused, wounded, confused, and horny as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian didn’t find himself in Chris’s orbit again until a break in filming the following afternoon. 

They were at Berlin’s Messerdamm Underpass, working on some heavy action scenes that day: a chase, involving death-defying stunts and several vehicles. It was only natural that Sebastian should feel nervous and hyped for such a demanding performance, given that he’d be taking a few risks with the attention of the huge stunt and special effects teams on him, but this time he suspected it wasn’t the filming schedule that was making his blood fizz with adrenaline. 

Chris, meanwhile, had been throwing himself into the stunt work with typical gusto and was leaping about in his Cap suit, which was flattering beyond all practical function, as if he was actively _trying_ to be as sexy as possible. The man was such a showoff, _fuck_.

Sebastian headed over to the makeshift makeup tent, where the actors were gathering before a short scene were Steve and Bucky would be arrested. They’d also be filming Black Panther’s identity reveal. Chadwick Boseman was already in the chair, having his hair seen to so that T’Challa could make a sufficiently groomed first impression, and OF COURSE the person wielding the scissors was a very lively Carlos.

There was barely time for Sebastian to sulk when he felt himself enthusiastically embraced from behind.

“SEEEEB!” Chris yelled, spinning him around and squeezing him with manly vigour. “Awesome work this morning, man!”

Sebastian returned the embrace slowly, despite his residual annoyance with Chris. He could feel himself vibrate a little, either from giddy, guilty joy or hyper-vigilance against Chris detecting his emotional turmoil. Carlos’s breathless anecdote about Chris’s, um, _prowess_ had been making Sebastian feel kinda rearranged all night, and he was still a confused mixture of lust, doubt, irritation and petty hair stylist envy.

He had also failed to brace himself for this kind of physical onslaught from Chris, even though five seconds of logical thought could have predicted it.

_Schoolboy error, Seb. Think things through next time._

“Morning,” he squeaked, then made a show of clearing his throat.

“You never congratulate _me_ like that, Chris,” grumbled Chadwick, from the makeup chair.

“That’s cos I don’t love you as much, buddy,” retorted Chris, still squeezing Sebastian. Over Chris’s shoulder, Sebastian could see Carlos smirking to himself as he preened away at Chadwick’s afro, shimmying around a girl with industrial-strength matte powder. His cheeks burned and he blinked away the tiny daggers that formed in his eyes as he felt Chris give him three hearty slaps on the back, then start to pull away.

Their exchange was light in tone, but it still made Sebastian feel like a rock star. Chris got on well with _everyone,_ thanks to his gregarious-yet-humble schtick, but Sebastian had long nurtured the hope that the two of them had something a little bit deeper. That they really _got_ each other; understood what made the other confident, or anxious; shared the same career goals and even personal dreams. They’d talked these things over on press tours when everyone else seemed busy with their families.

Kids would be great, but relationships were hard, they drunkenly agreed. You had to do the terrible movies to get experience, exposure and, of course, cash, they toasted. Typecasting was real, but you could work it if you were smart, they smiled to themselves. The superhero diet and workout regime was a bitch, they wholeheartedly concurred, but… the superhero body sure had its perks, they winked.

Chris’s superhero body and its perks had dominated Sebastian’s thoughts for quite some time, after that.

What Sebastian had refused to let himself dwell on, though was his nagging suspicion that Chris would make a great partner for someone. That his being single was both inexplicable, and a waste of great, well, _listening skills oh my God Seb stop_. Chris loved to laugh, of course, but he knew when to switch into a more serious mode, to pay attention and ask relevant questions. No other castmate had ever really taken such an interest in Sebastian’s tumultuous childhood, or asked him with such concern about its impact, or made him feel so goddamn _interesting_ , Sebastian might have thought if he was ever so sappy as to think about such things. Which of course he definitely wasn’t.

And in any case, he had now come to a rude realisation. It seemed Chris was not, after all, wasting his obnoxiously lovely nature OR his objectively spectacular body on singledom, but was in fact getting it on left and right with anything that moved. Well. With some people. OK, one person. But still. Highly skilful sexual liaisons on set? How unprofessional.

 _Best top I’ve EVER been with_ , echoed Carlos’s voice in Sebastian’s mind. He twitched his head a little.

 _Made sure I came AT LEAST twice_ , Carlos hissed in his ear, from the day before. Sebastian all but leapt out of Chris’s arms and stared at him, eyebrows raised in paralysis.

He could see that Chris’s mouth was moving, but the audio feed seemed to be on a delay. Chris’s face fell from delight to concern. A beat too late, Sebastian realised his own expression must be frozen in a dumb stare.

“You OK, Seb?” Chris was asking. Sebastian snapped himself out of it. He remembered that Chris was, for some reason, a terrible man.

“Oh! Yeah! I think it’s going pretty well today,” he managed, laughing a little awkwardly and shuffling over to an empty chair.

He sat side-on to Chris, stealing little glances to avoid looking him full in the stupidly handsome face.

“I’m LOVING these scenes, guys,” Chris was saying from his own chair, with his classic annoyingly motivating enthusiasm. “We’re all gonna look so badass. Bucky’s a fuckin’ _powerhouse_ , right Seb?”

Sebastian shifted. “A tragic and complex powerhouse, yeah,” he replied, aiming for sardonic but landing on slightly-too-quiet.

“Right, right,” Chris nodded. “You do such a great fuckin’ job with him, man. I love working with you on this.”

Sebastian fought a smile and glanced down at the floor, detecting Chris’s horrible twinkly blue eyes on him. His co-star was always so supportive and complimentary about his work, and in spite of himself, Sebastian had to admit it really helped him to have Chris’s encouragement. The two of them had a genuinely good process together, building up the dynamic between their characters and discussing ways to embellish the fairly minimal script through performance. 

Chris was going to have to work hard today, though, to get himself off Sebastian’s shit list, even if he wasn’t strictly aware he was on it.

Chadwick stood up to leave. “See you guys out there,” he grinned, heading out of the door wearing most of his extremely distracting Black Panther suit. It took Carlos’s giggle for Sebastian to notice that Chris, like him, had been watching Chadwick leave.

“He’s so hot,” sighed Carlos, and Chris shrugged and nodded his agreement. Sebastian turned to look straight ahead, praying his face would return to its usual colour. Was Chris usually like this? Open about his appreciation of the male form? _Flirty_? Sebastian really couldn’t remember. Since he’d heard about Chris’s one night stand, it was as if he’d awoken in a parallel universe where everything was gay.

Chadwick was OK. He really wasn’t _that_ amazing. Anyone would look hot in a super sexy muscle-enhancing black armoured catsuit.

Unwelcome butterflies flapped about in Sebastian’s stomach, mocking him. He scowled at his reflection, _daring_ himself to blush again. A woman he recognised as Annie came over to start touching up Sebastian’s face, while Carlos worked ostentatiously on Chris’s hair. Cap had such a basic hairstyle, honestly. What attention could it possibly require? Wasn’t he going to be wearing his fucking helmet most of the time, anyway? UGH.

“Hey Seb, you had any downtime yet?” Chris was asking him. GOD, the guy had NO self-awareness AT ALL.

“Not yet,” he answered, with a small smile. “Mainly sleeping off the jet lag, y’know.”

“Oh yeah, I hear ya,” Chris nodded, in his maddeningly affirmative way. “We need to check out Berlin some time. It’s supposed to be great.”

“Berlin is AWESOME,” chipped in Carlos. “I gotta bring you guys to some of the spots I found.”

“Carlos… I’ve been working out several hours a day for months, and I still don’t think I have the energy for the kind of places you like,” yawned Chris, stretching out in his chair.

“Ooh, I think you probably do,” Carlos replied, giving Chris a wink as he leaned over to carefully arrange the front of his hair.

Sebastian looked at Carlos properly for the first time since listening in to his private conversation. The hair stylist was strikingly pretty, it had to be said. Perfect eyebrows and razor cheekbones; inviting golden-brown skin and dark hair, shaved and preened into a high-maintenance but edgy style. Eyes that glittered with mischief. Perpetually either pouting or laughing. He wore shirts that hung sexily off his lithe frame, and pants that sat low while hugging his toned legs. Somehow Carlos was always chirpy, no matter what the call time. Cute little fucking bastard.

Grudgingly, Sebastian accepted he could see the appeal there, and the issue that had been nagging away at him for hours now suddenly snapped into sharp focus in his mind. Sebastian and Carlos were so, so different. If _that_ was Chris’s type, then he probably wouldn’t be…

 _Guy fucked me like he LOVED me_ , Carlos taunted him, without saying a word.

Chris laughed a little at his pointed remark, and Carlos squeaked and jumped up straight, as if kicked in the ankle. Sebastian watched them share a knowing smile and a hot wave of jealousy flashed through him. Chris had made him feel like the only man in the world only minutes earlier, and now he was more like a third wheel, out in the cold.

But of course, OF COURSE, Mr Charming-and-Sensitive Evans could not allow such a vibe to persist.

“Seriously, Seb, we gotta hit up Berlin one of these nights. Scarlett said it has the _best_ nightlife.”

We. WE, for the second time. Pffft. Like Chris was trying to be buddies, like nothing at all had happened. Like he was trying to hang out with Sebastian one-on-one in a cool and exciting foreign city at night.

Fuck.

That wasn’t new. They had grabbed drinks together lots of times. So why, now, was alone time with Chris such an anxiety-inducing prospect, while also being the ONLY thing Sebastian wanted?

His mouth was dry, but it ran off anyway, jettisoning his brain as it went into full panic mode.

“YEAH! Yeah, sure. We’ll get Chad and Mackie, grab some beers…”

He drifted off. That disgustingly beautiful smile stayed fixed on Chris’s face, but it almost seemed like some of the sincerity behind it had fallen away. He gazed back at Sebastian for a second.

“Sure! Sure, pal. Whatever you want,” he replied. There was nothing off about his tone but it made Sebastian feel strange, anyway.

Fussing around behind Chris with a can of setting spray, Carlos smiled, as if to himself.

“All done,” he announced, taking an actual fucking bow with an exaggerated flourish. He stood by, looking bored, until Chris’s imperceptibly different look got the nod from the assistant director, then beamed. “Off you go, Captain!”

Sebastian could almost see him fight the urge to spank Chris as he went to leave. He trained his gaze on the white canopy overhead.

“Thanks, man,” he heard Chris say to Carlos, warmly. “See you in a few, Seb.” 

He carried his utterly uninteresting blue-clad ass out of makeup towards the set, leaving Sebastian at the mercy of Carlos. Shit.

“Hey,” the hair stylist trilled, like some sort of nauseating songbird, as he started to fluff up Sebastian’s hair. He was still on thin ice, as far as Sebastian was concerned, but instead of hissing like a cat, Sebastian greeted him warmly. 

“Hi,” he smiled.

Carlos started fluffing up Sebastian’s jaw-length locks. 

“Somehow your hair is just too _nice_ for Bucky,” he said, pursing his lips. 

Sebastian laughed. “Uh, thanks?”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” Carlos cooed, finding some kind of product in his huge rolling case and starting to comb it through Sebastian’s hair. “He’s been on the run, for like, _ages_ ,” he continued. “Would he really have time or money for conditioner? For _shampoo_ , even?”

His mock horrified face made Sebastian cave and laugh out loud.

“Plus, don’t forget he was in and out of cryo-freeze for 70 years,” he pointed out.

Carlos let out a gasp and clapped a hand to his mouth.

“Oh my GOD,” he said. “Imagine the split ends!”

Sebastian was properly laughing now, and his cloud of resentment lifted somewhat. 

“I’m _so_ gonna cry when I watch this, now,” Carlos continued. “I won’t be able to deal with Hydra’s sustained abuse of Bucky’s hair.”

They settle into a companionable silence for a few minutes while Sebastian’s hair was artfully dishevelled. Sebastian’s mind had begun to wander, inevitably back towards Chris and the baffling mix of emotions his co-star inspired, when he was snapped out of his reverie by Carlos addressing him in a soft voice.

“You should go, you know,” Carlos was saying, squinting at Sebastian’s hair rather than looking him in the eye.

“Huh?” Sebastian blinked.

“Out. In Berlin. Wth Chrs.” Carlos said, gritting out the last part while holding his scissors in his teeth.

“Why d’you say that?” Sebastian asked, surprised by the suggestion.

“Oh, y’know,” smiled the stylist. “Berlin is cool.”

Sebastian looked at himself in the mirror for the first time that morning, and saw the face of the man who definitely really wanted to hang out with Chris Evans in Berlin, no matter how easily the man was distracted by pretty twinks into committing unprofessional conduct, or how little appreciation this allegedly bisexual man had shown for Sebastian’s own non-ugly appearance.

Fuck it all. The crush he had only just truly acknowledged was already starting to spin out of control.

*

It was _almost_ easier on set for Sebastian once he acknowledged that what he had thought of as a man-crush on Chris Evans was, in fact, an actual crush with overtones of intense sexual curiosity. Almost.

The day’s shooting went well, and he had the chance to work off his nervous energy and distract his whirring mind by running around a lot and pulling every face he was capable of. He and Chris didn’t get a chance to talk again but it was a relief, actually; he needed a bit of space to work things through in his head.

Arriving back at his trailer, Sebastian took a shower and sprawled on his bed with his laptop. He briefly checked his email and smiled when he saw a new message from Dan Richards, a good friend and fellow actor from New York, who was himself gay and loved to needle Sebastian about his gay roles. Which of course, in Dan’s mind, included Bucky Barnes.

“STUCKY!!!!” read the subject line. Inside the email was a one-line message and a jpeg attached.

Sebastian was already familiar with the portmanteau, of course: it couldn’t be avoided when interacting with Bucky’s devoted army of fans, or even his own. Steve and Bucky, cast as lovers. It was a totally reasonable interpretation, of course; whether or not the writers had romance in mind, the love between the two characters was a central theme of the Cap movies. He himself had observed that it was ‘a little Brokeback Mountain’.

He hadn’t discussed publicly, however, exactly how _much_ he thought about it. How, during his character preparation each time, he dwelt on how deep the relationship could go, and what it would mean to Bucky at different points through time. The cast joked about it, of course, on set, and Seb found refuge and relief in Mackie’s jibes, grateful for the excuse to laugh through his blushes.

He and Chris had discussed it more than once, and Sebastian was glad they were on the same page; that all interpretations were valid, and that they had to keep the romantic possibility open in their performances, even though it was beyond unlikely ever to be made explicit. 

Now, in the light of his more complicated feelings about Chris, however, the whole Stucky thing struck Sebastian with vigorously renewed interest.

Journalists had brought it up, too, on occasion, which meant that Sebastian was no stranger to the racier end of fan art about the characters. As much as being confronted with it in public made him uncomfortable, though, vulnerable even, he couldn’t help but hope that the image was going to be.

Well.

One of the good ones.

“4 UR CHARACTR DEV!!! DRx”, read Dan’s dumb message. Sebastian rolled his eyes, hesitated for a moment, and then double-clicked the attachment 

Uh, yeah… it was a good one.

He was looking at a very well-executed line drawing. There was Bucky’s familiar metal arm, and there was Steve’s bare…

A sudden bold of electricity shot down his spine and exploded in his groin.

He gasped out loud, and although he was certain no one else was hiding in his hotel room, he immediately clicked away, feeling strangely caught out. He pinched his eyes shut, embarrassed at his visceral reaction to the sketch.

Taking a couple of breaths, he opened one eye nervously and stared at his laptop screen, which now showed only Dan’s inane message. He’d… Bucky had been on his back, Sebastian thought, with a butt-naked Chris… _Steve_ on top of him. He felt a swimming sensation in his belly, and noticed his hand begin to tremble slightly. But what…

He needed to take another look. 

Clicking again on the attachment, he glanced away from the screen and over to the bland painting on his hotel room wall, taking a deep breath before returning his gaze to the Stucky image.

He tilted his head quizzically to one side, inhaling sharply as he allowed himself to take it in. Bucky was on his back, alright. His legs were hitched up around Steve’s hips and his toes were curled in obvious pleasure. His metal fingers clutched at Steve’s neck and his head was thrown back, his Winter Soldier long hair pooling on the bed sheets. His eyes were squeezed shut but his mouth was open in what looked a lot like a wordless cry of rapture. And Steve… Steve leaned down across him, his feel planted sturdily on the ground to give him leverage, and his mouth… Oh, Christ, his mouth was on Bucky’s chest, working its way from his collarbone to his nipple.

Sebastian felt arousal build in all the familiar places as he contemplated the image of his and Chris’s characters, having what seemed to be _extremely_ good sex. It was funny – whenever he’d mulled over the idea of Steve and Bucky as lovers, he’d cursorily imagined his own character on top. The longer he stared at the drawing, though, the more convinced he felt that Bucky would also love to bottom. The more he allowed himself to imagine, for the first time, really, that it might feel _good_. The Bucky in the picture looked pretty ecstatic doing it, after all, lying back under that shredded torso and taking Chris’s…

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Sebastian jumped, as if caught red-handed. He looked around guiltily and shifted in his chair, which prompted the realisation that his dick was hard as a rock. Slowly he glanced from his lap up to the image on his screen, and then into the middle distance. _What the fuck is going on, Seb?_ he murmured out loud to himself. However much Steve and Bucky were enjoying each other’s naked company, he wasn’t at all sure that he’d want to recreate the picture with Chris. Would he? 

Fuck.

Feeling his face flush with heat, he rapidly closed the picture and stared again at the email sitting in his inbox. After a few minutes of deliberation he didn’t save it or delete it; merely left it there, at the top of his list of messages, as if it inspired no strong feelings whatsoever.

He had had plenty of workplace crushes in the past, and his usual way of dealing with them was to seduce and subsequently date the subject of his affections. It was different this time, though.  
Because Chris was amazing in bed and liked experienced, slinky, hilarious Latino boys and didn’t like Sebastian like that. Plus, Chris was a fucking man, and Sebastian had no idea how to seduce a man. Plus, what the _fuck_?

How did you even _flirt_ with one? 

Ugh.

Ignoring his erection, Sebastian crawled into his queen-sized bed, turned off the lights and stared up at the ceiling. On it was projected a huge image of Steve and Bucky having sex. He closed his eyes but the image didn’t disappear; even worse, the figures started to move. Make noises. Steve’s mouth continued its journey across Bucky’s chest. Their hips rocked frantically together, and Sebastian’s involuntarily started to mimic their movements, his legs spreading slightly of their own accord. Sebastian hid his head under the blankets, turned his face away and allowed his hand to pursue its own path.

Minutes later, he was gasping for air and buzzing like a schoolboy who banged the prom queen.

Instead of thinking any more, he let himself bask in the afterglow and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU WANNA SEE THE PICTURE?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  This is the incredible work of [@sinbinconsultant](http://sinbinconsultant.tumblr.com/), an awesome artist who very kindly gave me permission (way back when) to use their work to illustrate my fic. Thank you my babe <3
> 
>  
> 
> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	3. Chapter 3

Sebastian sat despondently in his trailer in sweatpants and a t-shirt, wondering how he’d got so mixed up. The digital display on his cooker told him it was 04.17 and the scratchiness of his eyeballs confirmed he wasn’t seeing things; despite crawling into bed at 9pm the night before, he’d barely slept, again. His mind was too addled with images of Chris that he couldn’t supplant, try as he might to focus on past conquests or Black Widow’s zip-fronted suit.

The coffee machine hissed its readiness and Sebastian blinked at it in surprise and delight; he could only half-remember switching it on. He stared for a few moments longer before heaving himself out of his chair and shuffling over to the kitchen area, where he poured himself a strong, black, dark roast and stared broodily into the cup, imagining himself diving down to a place without light or confusing pornographic sketches or stupid sexy costars. Mmmm, it smelled like solitude and safety. 

Too bad he was about to film a scene where Chris’s entire upper body would be exposed in an inevitably skin-tight fucking T-shirt.

Things were out of hand, and it was time to work out whether to do something about his all-consuming crush, or convince himself to forget it altogether. Throwing caution to the wind, he reached for his phone and hit ‘call’.

The ring tone jarred in his ear against the early-morning silence of the trailer, and for a few moments Sebastian felt panic rise as he began to think he might not get the answer he was after, but eventually a friendly voice said his name.

“Seb!”

“How do you flirt with a guy?” Sebastian blurted in response.

There was a brief silence on the line, which could have been down to time zone delay or the element of surprise, then Dan Richards’s warm, scratchy chuckle rolled across the airwaves from New York, already taking the edge off Sebastian’s anxiety.

“You’re calling me pretty late at night to ask me this, Seb. Can I assume that the picture I sent has helped you see the light?”

The picture. Sebastian had been struggling with himself days now. Between the line drawing on his laptop and the daily spectacle of Chris in his slutty Cap suit shooting ridiculous action scenes, he was failing hard at compartmentalising his feelings. He was actually embarrassed about the state of his bed sheets and was planning to burn them before leaving the trailer.

The problem, of course, was that Chris only ever spoke to him like a friend, and he had no idea where to go from there. The atmosphere on set certainly didn’t help. Suddenly it seemed that EVERYONE was all over Chris, and Chris was glad to reciprocate the attention.

Scarlett would angle her body towards him, clad in Black Widow’s borderline fetishistic catsuit, and twisted her fiery hair between her fingers while smiling up at him through her dumb eyelashes. Downey, the biggest attention-seeker OF THEM ALL, would not stop kissing him on the cheek. Even Mackie, who was supposed to be Sebastian’s bro in all this, was constantly laughing with Chris, leaning all over him like he had no concept of personal space. And obviously, Carlos the human rainbow was ever present, with his boringly obvious sex appeal and infuriatingly charming personality.

If everyone on this fucking movie was going to flirt with Chris, then Sebastian wasn’t going to be the only one left out. He was Bucky fuckin’ Barnes, for chrissakes. The love of Cap’s life. Dan Richards had the strongest seduction record of anyone Sebastian knew, and he was damn well going to tap him up for some tips.

“Um. No, Dan. It’s… for a movie,” he lied, realising he hadn’t thought this phone call through. He really needed to do better on that.

“Oh, it’s for a _movie?_ Uh huh. Are you not currently on the Captain America set in Europe?”

“Shut up Dan, I got auditions.” Sebastian was already regretting making this call.

“Uh huh. Can’t you just do whatever you did in all those gay parts you played so convincingly?” his friend needled.

 _Yeah, but none of that was for real_ , Sebastian thought.

“Yeah, but they were all written,” he said. “I gotta, like, improvise. And it has to be good. Realistic.”  
Dan laughed again.

“Well, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask, man. I don’t really flirt, I don’t have time for that bullshit, if you know what I mean.”

“I do not know what you mean. You’re _always_ getting laid.”

“Exactly, my friend,” Dan sighed. “Look, if you want me to share my best lines with you… and I warn you, they are subtle and poetic as fuck…”

Sebastian had a bad feeling, but said, anyway, “Go on…”

“Well. So say I see a guy I like the look of, and maybe we smile, maybe we talk a little…”

“What kind of stuff do you stay?” Sebastian asked, against his better judgement, taking a sip of magical lifegiving coffee.

“I’ll probably just ask him outright if he’s… available,” Dan told him, pragmatic but slightly cagey.

“And if he is?”

“If he is…” says Dan, hesitating slightly, “then… I might invite him to come in my mouth.”

Sebastian snatched the phone away from his ear as he spluttered hot coffee over the updated script in front of him, and spilled the rest over his sweats and onto the floor. “FUCK”, he yelled, putting his phone down on the table to take care of the spill, while Dan’s dirty laugh quietly mocked him through the speaker. Eventually he picked up the phone again.

“Oh my God, Dan.”

“I dunno what to tell you, man. That shit works.”

“I’m sure it _does work_ , if you just wanna suck someone’s dick! Christ!” The coffee spillage had woken him up even more than drinking it might have, and now that he was awake, Sebastian was annoyed.

“Well, why else would you be… ‘flirting’?”

Sebastian could almost hear the inverted commas in Dan’s voice, as if he’d asked for advice on ‘courting’, or ‘escorting someone to a dance’, but his question gave Sebastian pause. Why was he putting this much effort into flirting with Chris? What kind of outcome was he looking for, here?  
“Sorry, man,” Dan was still laughing. “My romantic style is too real for you. You should pull that at the audition though. They will respect you for getting down to business.”

“Thank you, Daniel, you have been very unhelpful,” Sebastian told him.

“Look, Seb, it really doesn’t have to be that different. Just pull the same moves you use on all those blonde chicks you date,” Dan said.

“My girlfriends have all been interesting and substantial women, thank you,” replied Sebastian, dabbing at the mess in his lap with a hand towel.

“Sure, sure. I dunno, try some innuendo?” Dan suggested, apparently trying to be helpful.

“What, like dirty jokes? Seriously? You can’t… people don’t talk like that when they actually want someone.”

“Hey, at least it’ll make ‘em laugh. People like laughing.” Sebastian could hear the rising amusement in Dan’s voice, which meant it was time to shut him down before he took liberties.

“I dunno if funny’s the right... Never mind. Thanks, I guess.”

“Hey, anytime, man. Good luck. Hey, did you like the picture though? I thought it was beautif…”

“Bye, Dan.”

*

Sebastian ended the call and rubbed his eyes, wearily. That had been the opposite of helpful. No useful flirting tips, but instead another vivid mental image which would only compound his sticky situation. Furthermore, his coffee was on the floor.

Fuck, this wasn’t going to happen.

Sebastian wasn’t even asking for much. He didn’t want to _marry_ the guy, for crying out loud. Just... experiment a little. Maybe. Since Chris was apparently so into random hookups, Sebastian reasoned, he should at least be in with a chance of getting where Carlos had managed to go so effortlessly. 

Fucking Dan, though. Sebastian would never pull off that degree of confidence or, um, ruthless efficiency.

Sebastian squinted blearily into his mirror, where harsh bulbs lit his fair skin, pale blue eyes and Bucky’s stubbled jaw. Under his shirt rippled pounds and pounds of hard-won muscle, so much of it that he could barely fit into jeans any more. He was sooo not Chris’s type.

Nah, it was time to give up on the idea, still only half-formed, of expanding his sexual horizons on the Civil War set. He wouldn’t even be able to attempt to flirt, now, without thinking about making extremely forward offers that he wasn’t completely sure how to deliver.

He sighed. It wasn’t as if there was anyone here in Berlin from whom he could learn by observation.

Just then the door to his trailer swung open and a familiar, cheerful voice called out “Hiyaaaa!”

Carlos breezed in without being invited. His skinny jeans were ripped with precision, and he’d cut the neckline out of an oversized Rihanna ‘Unapologetic’ T-shirt so it hung off one shapely shoulder.  
Sebastian was not in any way ready for this. He frowned. His usual hair stylist was a short, tough woman named Kirsty, who partied almost as much as Carlos.

“Hey, man… I thought you did Chris in the mornings?” he asked, puzzled.

Carlos replied with a loud and infectious giggle, coughing out something that sounded a lot like “Thatwasjusttheonetime.” Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

“SOOOOO…” the hair stylist began, once he’d calmed himself down, rolling his eyes in preparation for a long story.

“Chris is getting his colour done right now, plus Kirsty ‘GOT REASSIGNED’” – he twitched two fingers from both hands in the air to emphasise Kirsty’s fraudulence – “to go work on the extras today, which is a totally _lame_ excuse, because everyone knows she got fucked up last night, girl had like twenty margaritas at Ulrich’s place, and those things were _strong_ ….”

As he spoke, he was hauling his case of tools and products up onto the sideboard and delving in it for the things he needed.

“And I was here early anyway, because I can handle it, unlike SOME people, and THEREFORE….” he said dramatically, twirling to face Sebastian with a devilish glint in his eye and wielding a comb in one hand and a spray can in the other, “This morning…. I’m doing YOU!”

Sebastian’s head had started to ache, but he couldn’t help smiling. The guy was unreasonably charming.

“We gotta do something with these extensions,” he said, combing through the ends of the Bucky hairdo. “Hey, is it cool if I put some music on?”

Sebastian hesitated, then shrugged and nodded his assent. Carlos yanked a couple of small speakers joined by a tangled wire out of his case and hooked them up to his phone. Sebastian braced himself for a blast of something high-energy and loud, but was pleasantly surprised when a synthy track with a dreamy female focal drifted out instead. 

Carlos turned back round, bouncing a little to the hypnotic drum sound.

“It’s Chromatics,” he smirked, starting to tease out Sebastian’s extended tresses.

“I know,” lied Sebastian. He settled back in the chair and found himself getting more and more relaxed while Carlos worked on him in merciful silence.

He had fallen into a decaffeinated trance when Carlos spoke again. “OK, I’m trynna be quick here, because I know it takes _forever_ to get your metal arm on,” he said.

Sebastian nodded. “Another day, another bucket of lube,” he said, automatically, then twitched a little, his eyes darting to the side. He’d made a lot of lube jokes since playing the Winter Soldier, but suddenly the context seemed oddly loaded.

Carlos gave him a long-suffering look. “Sounds like my weekends,” he said, as if getting through large quantities of lube was a terrible burden for him.

Sebastian smiled inwardly, keeping his face composed. “I gotta get in there, right?”

“I know, _God,_ ” Carlos replied, widening his eyes. “That arm is cool though, man. I bet you could do some _amazing_ things with one of those.” He made sure Sebastian saw him cock an eyebrow and smile.

It was still so very early in the morning, but something began to spark uselessly in Sebastian’s ill-rested mind, like a broken motor.

“It’s for killing people and stuff,” he replied, carefully, then a faint smirk found its way to the corner of his mouth. “The Winter Soldier is a killing machine, Carlos, not a sex object.”

That comment delighted Carlos, who very nearly skipped around from one side of Sebastian to the other, a huge grin on his exhaustingly perky face.

“Oh REALLY?” Carlos said, meeting Sebastian’s eye in the mirror like a challenge. “If I’m not supposed to find the Winter Soldier hot, why was he in bondage gear? Riddle me THAT."[1]

Looking at Carlos’s triumphant expression, Sebastian felt inspired with new confidence. He folded his arms and gave Carlos a raised eyebrow of his own.

“Are you… _flirting_ with me right now?” he asked, almost as a reprimand.

Carlos gave him a beaming smile in which Sebastian detected the merest hint of smugness, and shrugged his shoulders. He bent forward and leaned in close, pulling two strands of hair either side of Sebastian’s face to compare the lengths, frowning. Then all of sudden, he made eye contact. “Do you like it?” he half-whispered, inches from Sebastian’s face, with a mischievous smirk.

Sebastian started, but couldn’t deny he felt a little thrill down his spine. Carlos had already straightened up and refocused his activity on the back of Sebastian’s head, gracefully giving him space to ignore the exchange without embarrassment. You had to hand it to the guy: he might like to tease, but he was very rarely mean. Sebastian chuckled.

“S’alright,” he said, noncommittally, but winked at Carlos in the mirror, eliciting a shriek of laughter.

Sebastian settled back into his chair again and Carlos worked in relative silence for a miraculous couple of minutes, humming softly along to the music. Sebastian marvelled at how he couldn’t manage to hold a grudge against the guy, who had somehow managed to make him feel better, even on no sleep and no coffee.

“So did you and Chris get drinks yet?” the hair stylist asked, fluttering around with some brown gunk.

Sebastian was a little bit surprised at the question. It seemed weird to be asked something so specific, and the morning’s gentle chatter had done nothing to convince him that he might be in with a chance with Chris. He was moving on.

“Uh, no, we didn’t really get the chance,” he replied. “Schedule’s pretty heavy.”

Carlos pursed his lips, squinting in the mirror while running his fingers through the sides of Sebastian’s hair. “Shame…” he said, distractedly. “Maybe when we wrap at this location? Look this way for me...” He swivelled Sebastian’s head to the side.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” said Seb, staring down the length of his trailer. Something about the way Carlos looked at him with that dark, perceptive eye filled him with panic that he’d been found out. “Think I’m just gonna… steer clear of all that,” he said. “Y’know. We’re working here.” 

Carlos put down his comb just so he could put his hands on his hips and glare at Sebastian, who pretended not to notice. He didn’t have to explain himself; especially not at this hour. He screwed up his face, tired of thinking about the Chris situation. Slightly too late, he realised that Carlos might have taken his garbled defense as a judgement on his own behaviour.

“Sorry,” he cringed. “I didn’t mean…”

“Hey, s’alright,” Carlos cooed. The man could switch moods with alarming speed. He moved around behind the chair and started combing through Sebastian’s hair with his fingers. The effect was strangely relaxing. Mourning the loss of his coffee, for which he blamed Dan bitterly and entirely, Sebastian soon allowed his eyelids to drift closed.

“So remind me what you’re filming today?” asked Carlos, softly, with just enough volume to stop Sebastian falling asleep completely.

“Uhhh… Steve is chasing Bucky, and he tries to escape in a helicopter, so Steve grabs it by the landing skids and drags it back down to earth,” Sebastian slurred.

Gradually, he became aware that Carlos had stopped moving and talking. He opened his eyes slowly, to find the stylist standing still, arms folded, fixing him with an incredulous stare.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Carlos said, sternly, his jaw set with petulant seriousness.

“Ummm, no?” was all Sebastian could manage. It was too fucking early to work out what was going on here.

“And WHY is he running away from Captain America? Does he lack eyes?” Carlos’s outrage was palpable, and also kind of amusing.

Sebastian blinked and looked at himself in the mirror. How was he supposed to keep this perspective out of his head while filming the scene now? 

“He, uh… he’s not himself. He… doesn’t really know what he’s doing,” he mumbled, glancing down at the puddle of cold coffee at his feet.

Carlos threw up his hands in a gesture of deep despair. Still shaking his head, he picked up a strand of Sebastian’s hair between his thumb and index finger, regarded it disdainfully, and then let it fall.

“This is a mess,” he sighed. Sebastian _thought_ he was referring to his hair. “I’m gonna have to switch with Kirsty A-S-A-P. You need me, Sebastian.”

Sebastian pondered this. A sneaking suspicion grew somewhere in his sleep-deprived mind that the ray of eye-watering goddamn sunshine with the scissors might be right.

“Are you allowed to, just… switch like that?” he asked.

Carlos threw his head back and giggled for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.

“SOME people will tell you,” he whispered conspiratorially, meeting Sebastian’s eye in the mirror, “That I do whatever. I. Want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1Here Carlos is channelling the awesome artist Jess Fink, who spoke for us all back in 2016 with this iconic [tweet](https://twitter.com/JessFink/status/705155105432141824) [return to text]
> 
> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	4. Chapter 4

Once he’d been preened and made up to look like an exhausted man living in constant fear of exposure, Sebastian met up with Chris to ride to the day’s location. He still hadn’t sharpened up from his coffee-less zombie state, and Chris’s impossible enthusiasm felt to him like the midday sun to a hangover.

“Morning! God, it’s early, huh?” Chris beamed from the backseat. Sebastian grunted, praying there would be coffee available at the location. He was trying to keep focused on the scene of the day and not think about the fact that it represented the beginning of Steve and Bucky’s reconciliation, because he knew how that ended. He had seen the picture.

“This is gonna be fuckin’ hilarious. Dragging a helicopter out of the sky, man! I dunno how I’m gonna keep a straight face,” Chris was saying. Sebastian had similar concerns about his own performance in the presence of Chris’s eye-popping biceps, but he didn’t say anything.

That was fine, because Chris was great at filling silences.

“Hey, you think they’ll let me do it with my shirt off?” he chattered on. “I’ve spent more time in the gym than in my bed these last few months. I wanna get this shit on camera, know what I mean?” he joked, gesturing to his upper body.

Sebastian laughed weakly, and inwardly facepalmed. They hadn’t even reached the location yet and his mind was already swimming blearily with images of Chris’s sculpted torso. Exerting itself. God, when was he gonna get over this… this… whatever?

But Sebastian was a goddamn PROFESSIONAL, so he faced forward and began to channel his frustration and self-loathing towards the Winter Soldier’s brute assassin state. Chris didn’t take the hint, though, and started talking again.

“Hey, man, so tell me again about what’s going on with Bucky in this scene?”

This was usually Sebastian’s favourite kind of conversation, but his brain felt too fuzzy right now.

“Well, he’s… he’s triggered, right?” he mumbled. “He’s trying to get away and obey orders, whatever they are, but seeing Steve obviously does something to him. He’s not sure what. Confuses him, maybe.”

Chris nodded vigorously.

“Right, right. And Steve can see him slipping away, and he just goes all out to catch him. He like… he doesn’t give a fuck what anybody else thinks, he’s GOT to do this, right? He’s gonna get through to him somehow?”

Chris was gazing earnestly at him with serious blue eyes, and they made Sebastian want to crawl under a rock.

“Yeah…” he muttered. The gentle hum of the car was making him zone out again, and he thanked his stars he was going to be sitting in a rig all day instead of swinging bodily from it.

*

He was fine, _perfectly_ fine, shooting by himself. Striding purposefully up to the helicopter, ripping the door open with a sharp, mechanical movement, and getting the thing off the ground with murderous expertise. As soon as Chris burst through that door onto the roof, though, his stomach flipped and he started to lose focus.

Watching Chris below him, flexing like an unusually pale bodybuilder and pulling faces that could only be described as provocative, Sebastian found it impossible to keep his mind from wandering. What the fuck was this new thing he had for muscles? And, apparently, he now had a preoccupation with sex faces, too, which was completely great.

Sebastian battled with himself to stay in the scene, but he was convinced that with his brain so easily distracted, he’d keep messing up and drag things out. It turned out he needn’t have worried, in the end, because every single member of production staff who was anywhere near the location came out to watch. Sebastian sighed when he saw Carlos, along with the rest of the hair and makeup team, openly ogling the gun show. At least nobody was looking at _him_.

Joe Russo spared him a glance, though. After his close-up shots, the director looked up from the monitor and applauded.

“GREAT work, Sebastian. Come and look,” he said, gesturing to the actors to come over and look at the raw footage. “You can see on Bucky’s face that he’s determined to escape, but that underneath his programming, he’s still drawn to Steve. _Perfect_.”

Sebastian smiled when he saw that Russo was right; somehow his confused mental state had worked in his favour, this once.

“Anybody else wanna see this?” called Russo, half-joking.

“YES” said Carlos, immediately, leading the way to the monitors.

The first images of Chris leaping up to grab the helicopter and then bracing, the landing gear in one hand and a railing grasped tightly in the other, had the onlookers whooping and wolf whistling.

“Woah, looking good, Chris!” shrieked Annie, the makeup artist.

“FLEX it, baby,” cheered Carlos, elbowing Chris in the ribs and then squeezing his bicep.

Chris chuckled modestly. The footage changed over to some of the close shots from that morning. 

“Look at Sebastian!” Chris said, enraptured. “God, how d’you… how do you do so much with just your movements and your face? Honestly, I could watch you all day, man.”

Sebastian blushed and looked down. “You were good too,” he said, then stifled a sudden but unstoppable yawn. There was a brief, but awkward, silence.

“I liked the way you handled that joystick between your legs,” deadpanned Carlos.

Everybody laughed at that. Sebastian flushed deeper, remembering how it had only been his panic at the camera hovering near his lap that had prevented him from stiffening in Bucky’s faded black jeans. Still, Carlos had broken the tension, thankfully, and Sebastian had to admit that the day’s footage looked pretty good. He’d never been so grateful for the end of the day.

*

Chris caught up to Sebastian as he was trudging off the set, shoulders hunched.

“Seb! You OK, man?” he asked, brow crinkling in concern.

“Yeah. Tired,” Sebastian grunted back, suddenly unable to smile normally without looking strained.

“You need to look after yourself,” Chris said, bringing a hand up to Sebastian’s back as they walked. “Don’t get sick.”

“Is that you, mom?” 

Chris laughed.

“Your mother would thank me,” he said. “She only has one of you. And she didn’t drag you out of the ashes of communism so you could die of exhaustion in East Berlin.”

Sebastian gave a quizzical smile. Chris had a great memory, especially when it came to details about people, and this was partly why people like him so much.

“Hey,” Chris went on. “You wanna… get coffee or something? But, uh, probably not, huh? I guess the time for caffeine has passed!” 

Sebastian laughed, wearily. He was trying to act normal around Chris, not avoid his company too obviously, but all he wanted to do now was get back to his trailer and lie down. He nodded at Chris and turned to walk away, but Chris grabbed his arm and jerked him backwards.

“Ok, man. C’mere,” Chris said, pulling him into a tight hug. “We were fucking great today,” he murmured into Sebastian’s ear.

The hug was standard – even the praise – but Sebastian was now newly aware of the strength behind Chris’s embrace, and it made him feel lightheaded and safe. He could easily have melted against that solid chest, right there, and slept for 24 hours. Instead he pulled away quickly, before he let out an actual snore, or hung on too awkwardly long, or accidentally opened his mouth against Chris’s neck or something. Fuck, this is exactly why he needed to go.

He needed to get out of costume, get back, go to sleep, get his head straight. He almost definitely wouldn’t look at The Picture today.

*

4am rolled relentlessly round again, but shooting was finally about to wrap in Germany with a final day’s filming at Leipzig Halle airport. Sebastian and Chris were both due at the location, along with Scarlett, Elizabeth, Mackie and Renner: the only actors whose faces would be seen in the final cut.  
After today’s filming the cast would head back to Berlin for a night in a hotel, before flying back to the US the following day. Sebastian could not wait for the downtime the travel represented; he was exhausted in every way imaginable.

Yet somehow, Carlos was still running at full power. The guy was annoying sometimes, with his super soldier levels of stamina and his black widow-like meddling instincts, but Sebastian was starting to like having him around. In the course of the week since Carlos had appointed himself Sebastian’s new hair stylist, he had almost started to get past his jealousy over the whole Chris thing. This was mainly because Carlos barely even hinted at his own encounter with Chris, but seemed a lot more interested in how Sebastian was getting on with him, for unclear reasons. 

On this particular morning, the chirpy little punk pulled out his favourite spritzer and revealed that he was done with subtlety.

“So. Sebastian,” Carlos began, his no-nonsense tone making Sebastian feel instantly nervous. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you usually end up dating your hot blonde costars?”

Sebastian pondered for a moment, his stomach twinging with the fear of being edged out of his comfort zone.

“A few times, yeah,” he conceded.

“And how does that work?”

“It kinda… comes naturally, I guess. Especially if you’re playing a couple. It… uh…”

Carlos snorted, causing him to trail off.

“Look, sweetie,” said Carlos. “I’m just saying, I can’t help but notice you are off your game somewhat on this movie.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Sebastian felt a little stung. He had game. He’d just chosen not to bring it, for various reasons which were definitely very sound.

“Whaddya… I’m not interested in anyone here,” he replied, trying to sound indignant but instead, he feared, coming off as over-defensive.

Carlos slammed down his comb and put his hands on his hips, eyeing Sebastian with a level of exasperation that let him know his patience was wearing thing. Sebastian stared back, defiant, determined to hold his ground, but he was disarmed when Carlos started to smile.

The guy was onto him, and he couldn’t remember any more why he was trying to deny it. Furthermore, Carlos only ever seemed kindly, not malicious. Maybe he could actually _help_ Sebastian catch Chris’s eye, since he was such a fucking expert. Could Sebastian bear to swallow his pride and accept assistance? Maybe… maybe, on the last night in Germany, Chris might be up for letting his hair down. They both knew he’d done it in the past.

“Really?” Carlos asked, sceptically. “No wild-ass chemistry with anyone on this set at all? No real-world dimension to your on-screen romantic subplot? NOBODY here making you wonder late at night if there isn’t, maybe, more to life than you had been led to believe?”

Sebastian dropped his gaze first, grinning at Carlos’s reading of Captain America: Civil War as a violent romance. He appreciated the guy’s efforts, even if he was overlooking a major factor. 

“I don’t think my interest is… reciprocated,” he mumbled.

Carlos looked at him as if he’d called Mackie ugly, and Sebastian huffed a laugh. A big part of him still wanted to hope he could be next on Chris’s list, impossible though it seemed.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

Carlos smiled gently. 

“Um… anything at all?” he said, roughing up Sebastian’s hair with his fingers. “It really doesn’t need to be much. I’ll tell you what. We’ll go out tonight.”

“Aaah, man, I really don’t know if I can handle it,” Sebastian groaned. “I’m SO TIRED. Have you seen these?” he asked, pointing to the bags under his eyes which the makeup artists had started to incorporate into Bucky’s post-cryo look, recognising that they were fighting a losing battle in trying to cover them.

“Don’t say no!” Carlos pleaded, wide-eyed. “You’ll find the energy. It’ll be worth it.”

“I dunno,” Sebastian replied. “If I start drinking, I’ll just fall asleep on the bar.”

Carlos shook his head.

“You just gotta get away from the confines of reality for a little while,” he said. “It’ll be good for you. I know the place.”

Sebastian exhaled. The idea of going anywhere recommended by Carlos, especially after shooting all day, was too exhausting to contemplate. He had to admit, though, that the hair stylist had planted a tiny seed of curiosity in the fertile ground of his imagination. He’d make the call later.

*

Carlos was as good as his word. Once shooting had finally wrapped, the director had finished praising the cast and crew, and the applause had died down, he climbed onto an equipment case and yelled out his proposal to the group:

“Y’all staying at the Regent, right? Everybody who likes fun, and Sebastian, meet me in the lobby at 10.30. We are going to BERGHAIN!”

A couple of makeup artists whooped as Chris yelled back, “What the fuck is Berghain?”

“A club,” replied Carlos, as if he’d never heard such a stupid question. 

“I like fun!” said Scarlett.

“Sure, I’m in,” chimed in Lizzie Olsen.

“Fuckin’ gay dance club in Berlin, I’m down” said Mackie, eliciting cheers from the hair and makeup crew. “Renner?”

“Oh GOD no,” replied Jeremy. “Not my scene at all. Enjoy, guys!”

The makeup girls booed him with friendly exuberance.

“Alright, beautiful celebrities!” grinned Carlos, as everybody began to disperse. “I’m sure we will find others willing to join us, won’t we, Chris and Sebastian? GREAT outfits, please. But also don’t try too hard. Sven is _particular_.” 

*

Two hours on the autobahn later, Sebastian sprawled on the stiff, white, wrinkle-free sheets of his hotel bed and stared at the ceiling. He was kind of hoping he might accidentally fall asleep so he wouldn’t have to face Carlos’s night out, and the potential pitfalls of drinking around Chris and making a fool of himself. Tired as he was, though, he was kept awake by a gnawing sense of possibility. _Goddammit_ , he thought. His feelings were threatening to overwhelm him. He wanted Chris too damn badly to miss any opportunity to attempt to flirt with him.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled on a pair of black pants. At the bottom of his case, he found a black sheer shirt which was see-through in the right kind of light, and he pulled it on, chuckling at himself for being so slutty. He brushed his teeth and splashed on some random cologne, taking seriously Carlos’s instruction not to try too hard, and glanced at the clock. 22.27. Time to head downstairs.

A group had gathered in the lobby by the time Sebastian got there, including the set dresser Sebastian remembered as Carlos’s confidant from that fateful lunchtime weeks earlier, and various members of the hair and makeup team. Right behind him appeared Carlos, wearing the tightest, shiniest black pants Sebastian had ever seen, some unspeakably cool-looking black high-tops and a white singlet that hung off him, revealing half of his toned, tattooed torso. He was also wearing some very ostentatious sunglasses.

Carlos clasped his hands together when he saw Sebastian. “My God, I _love_ it!” he said, with enough surprise that Sebastian felt mildly offended. 

Scarlett stood up and twirled to show off her hotpants, slouchy tee and sneaker ensemble.

“Yes, babe! Perfect as usual,” Carlos continued. “Nice dress, Lizzie. Mr Mackie! Always sharp,” he nodded around the group with approval. When he reached Chris, who was wearing faded jeans, a plain white v-neck t-shirt and some slightly scruffy shoes, he paused and gave him a displeased look. Sebastian didn’t know why that could be when Chris was looking so extremely sexy and touchable.

“Chris, honey, what are you _really_ gonna wear?” Carlos enquired.

“I dunno, I thought maybe this _face_?” Chris replied, with a shit-eating grin, gesturing to his face with both hands.

YOU CAN WEAR ME, screamed Sebastian’s brain, and he almost slapped himself in the face to shut it up.

“Hmm. OK. Fair enough,” nodded Carlos, satisfied.

“OK THEN, EVERYBODY!” he said loudly, getting the attention of the group. “Follow me! I have a million taxis outside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW THIS WAS NOT SHOT IN GERMANY BUT THIS IS AN AU WHERE THEY GOT PERMISSION TO SHOOT IT BY THE PAUL-LÖBE-HAUS OK
> 
> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	5. Chapter 5

Chris, Sebastian, Carlos and the set dresser, whose name was apparently Maxwell, piled into a gleaming white Berlin taxi for the short drive out to Friedrichshain. Squished between Chris’s solid right side and the car door, Sebastian tried feebly to keep up with Carlos’s excitable chatter, but soon gave up and gazed out of the window at the dimly-lit, bustling streets. His mind was fuzzy with exhaustion, but even worse, his nerves had him paralysed and tongue-tied. 

Should he be trying to signal his interest in Chris, somehow? This was not something he usually had trouble with, but then, he realised, guiltily, he was never usually worried about getting knocked back.

Flirting never usually felt this _risky_. Was that because Chris was a guy, well-known for playing Captain America but not at all known for casually sleeping with other guys? Or was it because Sebastian had never actually _wanted_ someone so badly that the thought of trying, of making himself vulnerable and then _failing_ , sent him into a panic? _Ugh_.

He glanced across the backseat of the car, where Maxwell was squashed just as firmly against Chris’s other side. Sebastian rolled his eyes. The guy was trying to play it cool, but was transparently excited about hanging with a movie star. Why did Chris have to be so _obvious_ with his hotness? Was he incapable of buying shirts the right size? It felt as though he was folding his gym-honed arms across his sculpted chest purely to make Sebastian drool, and deliberately laughing to make his stupid dumb gorgeous face as appealing as possible.

“I mean, yeah, so many actors are really full of themselves, ya know?” Maxwell blethered. “I just think it’s great that you’re so down to earth, and you, like, _hang out_ with the crew, ya know?” 

Sebastian suspected he was trying to hint at his knowledge of Chris’s on-set indiscretion here, but Chris laughed it off good-naturedly. Sebastian huffed a little too loudly.

“I mean, you’re _really_ talented – I’m sorry, but you are,” – here he pawed at Chris’s leg like an inappropriate teenager – “but, like, you don’t use it as an excuse to treat people like crap?” Maxwell continued. 

“Thanks, but really, anyone who is openly disrespectful to their colleagues probably needs to take a look at themselves,” Chris deflected, good-naturedly, like the infuriatingly modest well-mannered asshole he was.

Sebastian sank down into his seat, allowing his eyes to close. Why was he even here? He could be at the hotel, enjoying blissful hours of sleep, instead of heading to a noisy club with irritating people. As soon as the shoot was over and he didn’t have to see Chris for a little while, he was bound to get over his inconvenient feelings. He might be worryingly obsessed right now, but it couldn’t last forever – he’d been infatuated before, but would be hard-pressed to name them now. 

Chris shifted slightly, and when he settled he was pressed even more closely against Sebastian’s left side. He had to supress a shiver.

Maybe they’d hit traffic and could sit in the car a while, squashed together for a perfectly innocent reason. Sebastian would be OK with that. Maybe they would get to the club, and the others would get out, but Chris would pull him back into the back seat, tell the driver to drive, and… Sebastian began to drift, thinking of the heat along his left side and that incredibly realistic fantasy line drawing on his laptop, imagining Chris’s hipbones sandwiched between the tops of his thighs.

“SO, _you’re_ looking extremely hot tonight, Sebastian,” grinned Carlos over his shoulder from the front seat, lowering his shades and waggling his eyebrows. Sebastian jumped out of his skin and glanced from Carlos to the others, fighting desperately not to blush at the images which had been drifting through his mind.

“Ummm, thanks?” he managed, forcing out a smile. 

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Carlos showed him mercy. “I think it’s the hair,” he said.

That gave Sebastian an excuse to laugh with the others.

“I dunno, I just don’t think it has quite enough _product_ in it,” he said, lifting a strand and grimacing.

Carlos pouted. “Still so much to learn from me, sweetie,” he said, airily.

The cab slowed down and pulled up, and Sebastian was almost on the point of escaping in it back to the hotel when Chris nudged him.

“PARTY TIME!” he cheered, with such cheesy faux-enthusiasm that Sebastian’s heart leapt, because it was suddenly the two of them again, him and Chris, inside a private joke. If this place wasn’t fun, they’d be laughing about it together.

He followed Chris out of the car and into the warm night. They soon found their cast mates and the make-up girls hovering at the back of a long line hopeful clubbers, who ranged from the nonchalant to the painfully overdressed. The excitement in the night air was almost tangible: Sebastian’s eyes tracked the chattering line between mesh fences, all the way up to a huge and austere-looking square building, which quaked rhythmically on its foundations. Coloured lights flashed at the windows like a haunted house at a fairground, producing an effect which was equal parts intimidating and seductive.

Lizzie was stumbling slightly, and grinning from ear to ear. 

“ _Someone’s_ been at the minibar,” said Scarlett, giving her a theatrical side-eye.

“OK, I don’t queue. We’re going to the _end_ of this line, motherfuckers,” Carlos announced, with a shit-eating grin.

Chris and Sebastian groaned in sync.

“I expect better from you, Carlos,” said Chris.

“Hey, I’m not trying to be witty. I’m deliberately referring to your fucking love story,” Carlos retorted. He grabbed Lizzie’s hand and led the way. 

Chris shook his head as he followed. “Can you even _see_ anything in those?” he asked.

“Of course I can. I’m gay, I have night vision,” Carlos snapped.

“Gay dudes got sonar, that’s why they talk so damned much,” quipped Mackie, with an irresistible gap-toothed grin.

Carlos shrugged. “Yeah, that, and we’re driven by boredom to drown out hetero narratives,” he fired back.

Sebastian could hear a few resentful murmurs as their group forged ahead.

“Ugh, some of these guys have no chance,” opined Carlos as he led the group right past the line. “You guys are lucky you’re with me, or you probably wouldn’t either.” 

“Even Captain Heteroflexible here?” sniggered Maxwell.

Scarlett and Lizzie giggled, leaning against each other, and Chris flashed Maxwell a cringe-inducing wink-with-finger-guns. _Jesus_ , Sebastian thought. Did absolutely everyone know this about Chris already? He started to feel the sting of exclusion again, as he had when he first heard about Chris and Carlos. But before he could wallow too much, they were approaching the club’s main entrance and a team of scary-looking black-clad bouncers, led by an older, bearded man with barbed wire tattooed on his face.

The mythical ‘Sven’ looked coldly from Sebastian to Chris, Scarlett and Mackie, before his gaze settled on Carlos, who lifted his shades and smirked.

“Hi Sven, mein Bӓrchen. Ich bin wieder zurück. Mit Freunden.”

‘Sven’ gave what almost passed for a smile and pivoted himself a half-turn towards the club entrance, jerking his thumb at it. Carlos clapped his hands and kissed the bouncer on the cheek, before grabbing Lizzie’s hand and yanking her towards the door, beckoning to the others to follow.

“REMEMBER!” he yelled to all who would listen. “What happens in Berghain…”

He pulled his shades down his nose again expressly so he could peer at Chris and Sebastian, before leading his gang of Hollywood interlopers into Berlin’s techno underbelly.

*

Sebastian was swept through the graffiti-covered front doors of the club as if dragged down a rabbit hole. Pounding beats and hypnotic chords grabbed him by the ears and shook his bones, pulling him onwards. This wasn’t his usual scene at all, but excitement started to build in his chest as the group passed through the entrance hall to the main room. Up ahead he could see Carlos and Lizzie bouncing up and down with glee. They flung open the door, and a wave of noise, heat and energy hit Sebastian all at once. 

He stumbled through into a sea of bodies, dancing frenetically on all sides. It was pretty dark but the occasional coloured searchlight revealed a cavernous, industrial-looking room; the bass so loud it made Sebastian’s ribcage vibrate, and disorientated him for a second or two. Carlos had been right; clubs like this were like little pockets of unreality. You could step outside your everyday life and be anyone, or no-one if you preferred. He felt agitated, wired, possessed by an urge to _move_ – either dance or run for cover. 

Then a strong hand took his arm, and he whirled around to see Chris in front of him, beaming. Thank God, they were here together. Chris was nodding to the beats, with the same show of exaggerated enthusiasm he’d shown earlier, and Sebastian’s face crinkled into an answering grin.

Chris pulled him through the crowd towards a staircase at the side of the room that took them up to another floor; a smaller room which thankfully felt much more relaxed.

“This is the Panorama Bar,” Carlos shouted over the music. He ushered them over towards a seating area with a table and soft cushions covering the concrete benches, shooing away a couple of clubbers perched there with a word in their ear that brought big smiles to their faces. Once he’d got his charges settled, he turned to Chris.

“OK, gimme your card,” he smirked, putting out his hand. Chris raised his eyebrows but barely hesitated before pulling out his credit card and handing it over. Carlos disappeared, and re-emerged minutes later, pursued by a petite, scowling woman who was wielding a tray loaded with beers and shots.

He gestured at the group to get stuck in, and Sebastian was sure he caught a brief but pointed look before Carlos span on his heel and merged seamlessly into the crowd.

Sebastian took a beer and sat back. From his vantage point he had a good view of the dancefloor, which was busy, but not heaving. The crowd was like a candy jar of Euro clubbers; hipsters, ravers, chin-stroker music obsessives, leather daddies and cute young lesbians, excited tourists and drugged-up exchange students. Carlos had explained in the car that the club, a former communist-era power plant, was the home of legendary gay fetish nights – but this, fortunately, was not one of those. From where Sebastian sat, the straight crowd was embraced by the veteran gay party animals, and the atmosphere was amazing.

Still on edge, Sebastian rapidly sank a couple of beers and a clear-ish shot that turned out to be tequila. An alcoholic flush soon rose up his chest and cheeks and he began to feel soft at the edges, as relaxation blended into exhaustion. The music and the movement of the dancers had a hypnotic effect. The room took on a surreal quality.

Across the table Chris was sandwiched between Scarlett and Mackie, lit up in pink then green then red then blue, laughing and drinking. Sebastian squinted; his friends looked flat and jerky, as if animated in stop-motion video. God, Chris was hot. His skin looked so tactile. But he was over _there_ , with _them_ , because he wasn’t interested in Sebastian. 

The others moved between the dancefloor and the seating area, but Sebastian couldn’t loosen up enough to dance. He lost count of the beers he’d sunk. Mackie sidled over to say he was wasting his fine ass by refusing to shake it, and stayed for some shared wisecracks which made Sebastian dissolve into hysterics. His consciousness blurred.

At some point Lizzie sidled up alongside Sebastian and twittered in his ear. He couldn’t make out what she was saying but he smiled and nodded, so Lizzie giggled and kissed his cheek and disappeared again. Sebastian’s pulse throbbed in time to the music. Carlos and the makeup crew danced. Minutes or hours might have passed, and despite the volume of the music, Sebastian almost felt he could fall asleep. Instead he slipped further into a reverie, conjuring up an image of himself and Chris dancing, pressed close together, in a crowd of strangers to cool to notice them.

He was jolted back into the room by an unexpected variation in the beat – a staccato breakdown – and the _whump_ of a large body sitting down close by, so heavily it disturbed the hot air around him. 

“Chris! Hi!” he blurted, drunken joy bursting through his chest and up onto his face. It was short-lived, though. Almost immediately, Scarlett threw herself across Chris’s lap, flinging an arm around his shoulders and letting her hair fall in her face.

“Hi, Seb!” she purred, running her hand up his thigh and squeezing gently. Her smile was slow and expansive, and her eyes had that unfocused glaze that comes with the fourth or fifth beer. Sebastian smiled back on reflex. She was sexy, obviously, and tipsy too, but he was oddly uncharmed – instead he felt only irritation that she was leaning all over his moment.

Fortunately, Sebastian had a superhero on his side.

“C’mon, let’s go babe!”

Carlos’s voice seemed perfectly calibrated to be heard over music. _Don’t you fucking dare,_ Sebastian wanted to growl, but when Carlos extended his hand not to Chris, but to Scarlett, his heart melted in gratitude. She rose gracefully to her feet with a coquettish smirk and shimmied her way onto the dancefloor behind him.

Chris immediately shuffled over to sit close to Sebastian. He leaned his head back against the cushioned surface and smiled, like the sun bursting through a break in the clouds. Sebastian tried not to stare, though the shifting coloured lights and relentless soundscape made him wonder if Chris was some kind of beautiful hallucination. He could see Chris’s mouth moving but he couldn’t hear a thing over the music, so he leant in close.

“I said, THANK GOD!” Chris was shouting. “She needed to blow off some steam!”

Sebastian laughed much more hysterically than the comment deserved, and when he finally stopped he realised he and Chris had swivelled on the makeshift couch to face each other, with only a few inches between them. He sat up suddenly and grabbed another couple of beers from the table, handing one to Chris before slumping back down against the plush backrest.

“This place is wild,” Chris yelled, chuckling. Sebastian had to agree.

They looked together out across the dancefloor. Scarlett was enjoying the rapturous attention of an entire gaggle of starry-eyed dancing queens, while Carlos could now be seen climbing up a 6ft 5 guy with glistening blue-black skin, pink hair and muscles bigger than Chris Hemsworth’s. 

“I do not know where he gets the energy,” shouted Sebastian in Chris’s ear, prompting another chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s great,” Chris shouted back. The mild compliment made jealousy slosh in Sebastian’s stomach again. “Such a smart guy.” 

Sebastian nods. “He sure thinks he is,” he replied, thinking of all Carlos’s misguided attempts to push him towards Chris.

Chris leaned back in and yelled into Sebastian’s ear: “Yeah, he was supposed to go to Columbia? For college?” 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, impressed and a little bit surprised.

“He didn’t make it though,” Chris continued, his breath hot against Sebastian’s face, his voice making Sebastian’s eardrum vibrate. “His dad kicked him out and he had to get a job.”

Sebastian felt guilty for every petty thought he had ever entertained about Carlos. He’d barely even asked the guy anything about himself. Chris pulled back for a second, meeting his eye, then leaned back in. The proximity sent a shiver around the back of Sebastian’s neck.

“I think he had a really shitty time,” said Chris’s voice, loud in his ear, “but look at him now! He’s doing so fucking great, man.”

All traces of jealousy disappeared as Sebastian understood that this was just Chris’s way: relentlessly positive, proud of the achievements of everyone around him. What an uplifting, sexy, drunken, very-close-by bastard.

A sexy, drunken bastard who was virtually leaning on him, all strong and sexy and drunken and into casual hook-ups. 

It struck Sebastian, then, that he could have been asleep for hours. This was probably a lucid dream. A dream in which he was suave, and couldn’t fail, and anything was possible. 

Bravado swelled beneath his skin, and he was suddenly done with nerves and frustration. He didn’t want to talk about Carlos any more, except to yell:

“He’s _also_ very cute.” 

Chris froze, then squinted.

He was taking a while to react and Sebastian could see him wondering whether he’d heard him correctly, so he raised one eyebrow a tiny fraction. Chris went wide-eyed and hid his surprised grin behind his hand.

“YOU think so?” he asked, turning mischievous. His eyes ran rapidly up and down Sebastian’s body, as if unconsciously, which gave Sebastian no small thrill. Was this really happening? Probably not, but he was going to go with it.

Sebastian shrugged and nodded, returning Chris’s grin. Why the fuck not. Carlos was cute as hell, he might as well admit it.

“Don’t _you_ think so?” he added, a little disingenuously, given that he knew full well what had passed between the two of them.

“Well, , but… he’s a little too young and hyper for me,” was Chris’s answer.

“Really? What do you go for, then?” Sebastian smiled, resting his chin on his hand and blinking slowly. He was on fire now. Finally, _finally_ , in this dream world, he was hitting his flirting groove with Chris. He was so wired he was almost trembling. As casually as possible, he picked up his beer and flexed his lips slowly around the bottleneck, screaming inwardly at how outrageous he was being.

Chris stared for a second before blinking and shaking his head. “I dunno. A connection? Like… friendship?” He was leaning in close and had stopped yelling, so Sebastian was having to read his lips as well as strain to hear him. “I… kinda love blue eyes?” 

Sebastian’s stomach rolled over. Chris was looking at him with total sincerity.

“Uh, a… sexy mouth will probably kill me someday?” 

He stared at Sebastian’s lips with no subtlety, then actually looked a little flustered to meet his eyes again. “Um… How about you?” he asked.

Sebastian was floored. His confidence disappeared as quickly as it had come and his mouth opened and closed silently. “Kindness,” he wanted to say. “Shared experience. Shared _humour_. Apparently I’m into muscly arms now? America’s finest ass? Something totally new and EXCITING _YOU_ IT’S ABSOLUTELY YOU OH MY GOD CHRIS _YOU_.”

But the music was too loud and all of that was dumb. 

Fuck it. Whatever this was, they were so far from Kansas now that he might as well throw caution to the wind. He’d be waking up soon, anyway. Sebastian came up with the smoothest line he’d ever delivered.

“Uh… I like… arms?”

His heart was pounding in time to the booming bass as he lifted a finger to trace the inside of Chris’s bicep. As he watched it trail over Chris’s taut, damp skin, he realised too late how violently his hand was shaking: hopefully Chris wouldn’t notice, or he could blame it on the juddering speakers.

Chris inhaled sharply at his touch, and it took Sebastian a few seconds to find the courage to meet his eyes again, but then they were staring, gaping at each other. Was this the right time to bring out Dan’s favourite pickup line? Sebastian was seriously considering it when he saw Chris swallow, then throw an anxious glance across the table, to where Wanda was babbling the ear off a smiling Mackie.

Following his gaze, Sebastian snatched his hand away and clasped it with the other in his lap, suddenly awkward. What was he thinking, touching Chris like that in front of their colleagues? Was Chris going to be embarrassed? Was he even cool with being touched? Shit, was he even flirting with Sebastian to begin with?

Anxiety began to simmer underneath Sebastian’s comforting booze blanket and he glanced nervously back at Chris, who was still staring and licking his lower lip distractedly, not meeting his eye.

Shit, shit, shit. He had totally misread. This was a disaster. Chris was freaking out.

“So I’m, uh, just gonna, like, go to the bathroom?” Chris opened his eyes wide and jerked his head, indicating the other side of the room. “Um, I don’t know if…” he stuttered, obviously flustered. He hesitated for a second. “…OK then.” 

Sebastian was mortified. Chris virtually leapt out of his seat and strode off across the room.

The club was hot, but the icy chill of rejection trickled down Sebastian’s back. Dread settled heavily in his gut. He kept nodding dumbly, as he watched Chris disappear into the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag yourself I'm Scarlett.
> 
> AU where the cast of CACW is cool enough to get into Berghain, OK?
> 
> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	6. Chapter 6

Chris wove his way to the dancefloor, with Sebastian’s eyes glued to his back. He looked back once, over his shoulder, but Sebastian quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring. When he glanced up again, he caught sight of Carlos redirecting Chris and pointing him behind the DJ booth, presumably to the staff bathroom. 

Mortification spiralled in his stomach and an unexpectedly emotive synth break flooded his ears, threatening to bring tears to his eyes. A shitty dream this was turning out to be.

Chris had run. Sebastian had taken a chance, put himself out there, and…. He’d crashed and burned. There was no sugar-coating it.

Sebastian stared blearily after his co-star, wondering how to deal with the awkwardness when Chris returned. Maybe it was time to leave. They would both feel like death tomorrow, and he could only pray that Chris had drunk enough that he wouldn’t remember their conversation. He stared dully at the table before, him which was strewn with empty beer bottles and shot-glasses, many of which he had personally emptied.

His gaze tracked slowly up to the dancefloor, taking time to refocus. Countless bodies of every shape were moving without self-consciousness or inhibition. It took him more than a few seconds to realise his eyes had settled on Carlos and his new friend, who were getting on _very_ well, and it actually… fuck. It turned Sebastian on more than a little bit, just watching them move together, touching and kissing with such unabashed passion. Christ, it was starting to look as though they might be about to strip each other, right there in front of everyone. 

Sebastian grabbed a new beer and took a swig, hissing out a beery breath between his teeth, licking a few cold drops from his lips. He shuddered as a bead of sweat trickled down his spine. God, his skin was _screaming_ to be touched.

What had gone wrong, minutes earlier? He’d been so sure that Chris was looking at him, talking to him, with more than friendly intent. Sure enough of it to take a risk, to lean over with inarticulate compliments and touches which left no room for interpretation. But instead of yielding, melting into giggles and coy kisses, as women invariably did when Sebastian turned on the charm, Chris had.. disappeared, as fast as he could. Removed himself from the public gaze. Gone backstage.

But he’d… why did he look back? Why would you…

 _Blue eyes_ , he’d said, looking into Sebastian’s, all serious and searching.

_A connection. Friendship._

Sebastian turned his head slowly, letting the room swoosh around him. Lizzie and Mackie still seemed to be deep in conversation; Lizzie gesticulating wildly, and Mackie laughing at her. Scarlett had found some of the makeup team and they were dancing riotously together. 

Chris was a one-night-stand kind of a guy. He knew this. Chris had fraternised with co-workers before. This really shouldn’t be so difficult.

No-one would notice if he disappeared for a minute or two. He… he probably needed to use the bathroom, anyway. 

Fuuuuck. He was actually going to give it one more shot. Speaking of which… one last tequila burned his throat and boosted his courage. He stood, swaying slightly as he adjusted to the mess of alcohol, adrenaline and sleeplessness in his system, and teetered off in pursuit of Chris.

Dodging flailing limbs and squeezing between sweaty bodies, Sebastian ducked and dived his way to the door behind the DJ booth. It swung open heavily and closed itself behind him, instantly reducing the banging beats outside to muffled thuds. _Thick walls_ , he might have thought, if he’d been able to think anything over the ringing in his ears.

He rested a heavy hand on the wall for support and made his way along a narrow hallway, lit dimly with bluish lights. Alcoves were carved out of the walls along the way. The path took a sharp turn to the left and as he rounded the corner, Sebastian stopped in his tracks.

Chris… was… heading his way, his jaw-dropping body silhouetted in the semi-darkness. Chris, walking in jerky slow motion, leaving traces in the air as he moved. Chris, with the end of his belt trailing from its loop, his white v-neck clinging to him like sandwich wrap. Fuck, he looked better than ever when a little fuzzy around the edges. Surrounded by a glowing aura as if he was magic or some shit.  
Sebastian snapped his jaw shut to contain the drool that flooded his mouth. It looked as though Chris was speaking. He frowned.

“I said, are you, uh, going to the bathroom?” Chris asked. His voice echoed oddly between the concrete walls, veering from loud to soft. Nothing was behaving as it should: probably, Sebastian reminded himself, because it probably wasn’t really real.

Sebastian stared back, somewhat stupidly. He blinked, slowly, and when he opened his eyes again Chris was riiight there in front of him. He swallowed. Chris had asked a question.

“Uh….. No?” he answered. The word came out all wobbly. He folded his bottom lip behind his teeth and watched Chris, warily.

Slowly, a smile began to spread across Chris’s face. His top lip curled and narrowed and his eyes danced, glinting in the semi-darkness.

The hallway pitched to the left, making Sebastian wobble, then righted itself.

Above their heads, a strip-light flickered.

They grabbed each other at the same time, but it was Sebastian who stumbled as Chris’s mouth crashed into his, who shuddered from his scalp to the soles of his feet. Their tongues slid roughly, _violently_ together, and Sebastian thought someone must have slipped something in his drink, because the rush of euphoria that coursed through him was much too intense to be caused by kissing. Kissing didn’t feel like this in real life.

His hands were either side of Chris’s face. Stubble scraped the soft skin of his lips, making it tingle and burn. It had been years since Sebastian had made out with a guy, but he was pretty sure he’d never thrilled this much at a powerful embrace.

Faraway basslines mingled with rumbling moans, rising up from his chest into his throat, and his heart hammered at odds with the rhythm of the building, filling him with nervous energy. Whether this was real or not, even if it was a drunken lapse of judgement on Chris’s part, even if it was the dumbest move of his career… Sebastian wanted to take as much as he could get.

But he was dizzy, now, with desire and drink, and his knees gave out from under him. Chris caught him with strong arms, and crowded him into an alcove, shoving him backwards onto a convenient shelf. No-one had ever manhandled Sebastian before and it made him feel so _wanted_ , so _sexy_ … it was giddying. Instinctively, he wrapped his legs around Chris’s waist and pulled him in tightly, tonguing him hard, his involuntary moans merging with the muted sounds of music.

Drum beats thudded in his ears and echoed around his body like a pulse. This was too good. Nothing was this good. Chris’s hands were on him, under his shirt, thumbing a _nipple_ … if this was real, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Then those arms were holding him. His… oh, fuck, his dick was hard as a rock, and… oh, _fuck_ , Chris’s was too because he could _feel_ it… oh… grinding hard against his… shit, he was getting rubbed in all the right ways, and arousal swirled out of control through his abdomen and into his trembling thighs. 

Chris was holding him up by the ass, now. Holding him, pushing his back to the wall, rutting against, and Christ, this was the hottest dream ever, and his body was overloaded with desire, and he was almost nauseous with lust when Chris started to fumble with his fly. Their hips thrust together in a perfect rhythm, four on the floor. He didn’t know what the fuck was happening but he knew he didn’t want it to stop… he was so hyped he might shatter, or explode, or have a fucking _nuclear orgasm_ right here any second now…

SLAM.

Steve pulled back, froze, and Bucky collapsed against him, groaning, bereft. Forced back from the brink. He wasn’t happy at all.

Footsteps sounded dimly in the hallway.

“Do you think they’re dead?” came Scarlett’s voice, piercing the muffled sound around them, answered by a giggle that had to come from Lizzie. FUCK.

Within seconds, Chris had set Sebastian down, steadied him on his feet and stepped away so that they were standing yards apart in the hallway. The dim lighting helpfully concealed all signs that they’d been all but fucking with their clothes on, except that they were both breathing much too fast, and Sebastian’s shirt was rucked up around his chest. He yanked it down, hastily, his heart still beating wildly.

“Fuck! Sorry!” Chris whispered.

Sebastian stared back at him, not following. “ _SORRY?_ ” he mouthed.

“You’re… drunk, I shouldn’t…”

Sebastian was puzzled, but feeling so high he shrugged it off. “YOU’RE drunk!” he giggled, jabbing a finger sloppily in Chris’s direction.

“There you are!” shrieked Lizzie, rounding the corner. “What are you _doing?_ ”

“Talking?” Chris replied, sharply, and Sebastian noticed an unusual tone of irritation in his voice when he spoke to the girls. He himself hadn’t been so quietly furious at someone since he eavesdropped on Carlos. He was still wired and wanting, wondering why he would hallucinate such a savage cock block. Chris was amazing. Oh my God, they had been _kissing_! He had to tell Carlos.

“This place is so crazy,” Lizzie was giggling. She was such a cute drunk. Sebastian couldn’t remember why he had hated her mere seconds earlier.

“SEBASTIAN!” Scarlett yelled. “You HAVE to come dance with us.” She clutched Sebastian’s wrist and pulled him forcefully towards the dancefloor.

Sebastian stumbled after her, grinning dreamily backwards at Chris.

“I, uh, I think I might head back,” Chris might have said, looking directly into his eyes. Sebastian squinted. 

Back….?

“BORING!” yelled Scarlett, shoving Sebastian out through the door.

Sound overwhelmed Sebastian’s ears again, and writhing bodies sucked him onto the dancefloor like a powerful current. He spun around and the room spun around him, making his stomach turn, making him panic for just a second… but there was Lizzie’s face, wide-eyed and victorious, right in front of him. Sebastian smiled back. A firm hand slapped his shoulder and a familiar voice yelled “Sebastian Stan! My _man!_ ” right in his ear. There was Mackie, clapping his hands and getting his groove on, his flowing motion a stark contrast to the aggressive movements around him. Sebastian started to move, letting the mesmerising rhythms permeate his hips, his shoulders, his feet. Scarlett flashed past. He was grinning, floating, on top of the world because Chris has kissed him, Chris had pushed him and pulled him and touched him, and ground against him like he just couldn’t help himself, and it had been the hottest thing he could _ever_ remember doing, and where was Chris right now? Maybe at the bar or something? As soon as he saw him, Sebastian would kiss him some more. Sebastian flung his arms in the air to mirror Lizzie’s movements and she lurched against him, laughing, and Sebastian laughed too, until something tugged at the corner of his eye which made him stop.

It was a familiar face, radiating disappointment and disapproval, attached to an unmoving body.  
Sebastian wavered. He turned to face Carlos, who still didn’t smile. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Carlos yelled, every word falling clearly into Sebastian’s ears.

“Um, dancing? Do you wanna dance?” Sebastian started bouncing goofily, but Carlos froze him with a look.

“NO! I want you to go after Chris!”

He unfolded his arms and shoved a bottle of water and Sebastian’s jacket against his chest, and Sebastian took them, looking slowly from one to the other and back to Carlos.

“Huh?”

“GO. AFTER. CHRIS. YOU. DUMB. FUCK!”

He hauled Sebastian across the dancefloor to the top of the stairs.

“Chris left?” Sebastian babbled.

“Without YOU, apparently!” It was clear that Carlos had no more patience for this situation, but Sebastian still wasn’t really sure why.

“HE IS INTO YOU, ASSHOLE! Honestly! I’m trying to have a good time with my friend over there” – he gestured over to where the enormous pink-haired guy was leaning on the bar, smiling in fond admiration – “but I keep getting distracted by your ridiculous fucking shitshow. I’m not gonna hold your hand any more, Sebastian. I’m done!”

Sebastian stared.

“He’s _into_ me? You mean, like, before tonight?” His words came out slow, slurred.

Carlos rolled his eyes and waved his hands in sarcastic revelation. “The penny finally drops.”  
“Wha… but he… how do you know that?”

Carlos’s face softened, and he finally gave Sebastian a small, almost rueful smile.

“Something he said to me once. Let’s just say it left me in no doubt.”

“Oh,” said Sebastian, still scrabbling to work out what was going on. “Um, Carlos?” he continued, “Can I just check… is all of this stuff definitely real?”

A firm hand clouted the back of Sebastian’s head, almost knocking him over.

“Was _that_ real?” 

“OUCH.” Sebastian nodded, rubbing the wounded area.

“Come with me,” sighed Carlos. “I’ll put your stupid ass in a damn taxi.”

*

Leaving the club was like rushing back to the cold surface after floating underwater. Sebastian still felt as though he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope, with everything dragging if he tried to look around too fast, but the sense of otherworldliness was gone. He was confident now that he was not, in fact, dreaming, but drunk as a sailor on shore leave.

He shivered in the night air, his shirt sticking to the rapidly-cooling sweat patches on his body. After a few clumsy attempts he managed to shove his arms into the sleeves of his jacket as Carlos pushed him into the back of a taxi, spoke to the driver and waved him on his way. 

What time it was, or what the fuck was going on, Sebastian had no idea. Carlos had assured him that he wasn’t dreaming, but the whole night still felt surreal in his mind. He was shaken by the way it had felt to kiss Chris. Absently, he stroked a finger along the edge of his lip, where the skin felt raw and tender. The memory was blurred already, but it was enough to get him feeling horny again, or at least to key into the amped-up tension which had never really left his body.

He sipped his water, lulled by the quiet hum of the car engine and the gentle music on the radio, which permeated the echoing in his eardrums and comforted him. Carlos had said… Carlos thought that Chris _liked_ him. On one hand, Sebastian was sure he couldn’t have been the only one to feel stunned by the chemistry between them when they kissed. On the other hand, however, Chris had run off and left him twice in one night, which was not a _great_ flirting technique.

He thought back to Chris’s face when they sprung apart, after the girls had burst in. His stupid ass apology, citing Sebastian’s drunkenness. Maybe Chris had left because he felt _bad_. Like he had taken advantage somehow. That wasn’t right. Sebastian would fix that.

It was 2017, and Sebastian was an open-minded modern guy, _totally_ comfortable with fluid sexuality and workplace hook-ups, and he _wanted_ this night with Chris, more than anything. Sure, they could work together. Stay friends. Why not? They were grown-ups. He had been sweating for months to achieve a body that could rival Chris’s and, frankly, his face had never let him down before. He was _hot shit_. Of _course_ Chris would be happy to see him. He was gonna march into Chris’s room right now and rock that gorgeous motherfucker’s _world_. 

Somehow.

If he could only find out which room Chris was in.

He thrust a handful of Euros at his driver with a slurred “Danke!”, clambered out of the car and half-stumbled through the hotel’s revolving doors. Once inside he straightened up and walked in as straight a line as he could muster, over to the reception desk, where a professional-looking woman was on night duty. Noticing the half-drunk water bottle in his hand, he came up with an ingenious plan.

The receptionist looked up as he approached.

“Oh! Good evening!” she said, coyly, with the faintest German accent.

“Yah! Hi there!” said Sebastian, with a sloppy grin. “I need to… I’m staying here with my friend Chris? Chris Evans? Ya know?” 

The receptionist nodded, and blushed a little. Sebastian didn’t blame her.

“So we were out, obviously, and he, uh… I brought him some water?” – He brandished the bottle in her direction – “But I forgot which room he’s in?” 

Listening to himself, Sebastian realised he sounded like a drunken mess with a ridiculous pretext, so he went for broke. He leaned forward on the counter, bringing his face close to hers, bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“Think you can help me out, babe?” he asked, in a low voice. 

The receptionist raised her eyebrows and hesitated for a second, and then let out a giggle. Sebastian just managed not to fist pump when he realised his strategy had worked.

She hesitated for a second, looking about her, then turned back to Sebastian with a coquettish expression. “Sure!” she breathed, still eyeing him while tapping on her computer. “He’s got the suite on the third floor… room 303. He, uh, just got back a little while ago,” she added, a little breathless.  
“Thanks!” Sebastian replied, straightening up, and rewarded her with a wink. He span on his heel clutched the desk for balance, and strode off towards the elevator.

“You’re welcome Mr Stan! Just let me know if…” she called, but the elevator doors were already closing behind him.

*

Sebastian stepped out of the elevator feeling like James Bond, and only when he reached the door marked 303 did he begin to hesitate. He couldn’t hear any sound inside. Maybe Chris was asleep already. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe Chris regretted leading him on. He had left the club alone, after all.

His mouth went dry and he took a swig from the water bottle, silently thanking Carlos for having his back. Like magic, Carlos appeared like a glowing angel on his shoulder. He turned beatifically towards Sebastian, before clouting him on the back of the head and shouting “HE IS INTO YOU, ASSHOLE!”

Before he could think any more, Sebastian knocked at the door.

Silence.

He knocked again, a little harder. A familiar, sleep-addled voice called “Hmmmello?” and Sebastian couldn’t answer, because the sound sent a bolt of adrenaline through him, spreading arousal through his limbs, making his cock twitch. He glanced down and confirmed that he was embarrassingly stiff in his pants already. When he looked up again, Chris was gaping at him from behind his bedroom door.

Maybe it was the booze, but Sebastian went light-headed at the sight. Chris was shirtless, wearing only a pair of pyjama pants. His hair was all mussed up and there was a sleepy softness to his face, but it was illuminated by the most gorgeous, delighted smile. Sebastian had to grab the doorframe to keep from swooning.

“You came!” beamed Chris, and Sebastian lost his cool completely.

“Uhh… not yet?” he replied, deadpan, unable to muster even a hint of a smirk.

Chris, the adorable bastard, clapped one hand over his mouth in mock shock and used the other to yank Sebastian into the room by his sheer shirt. He stared into Sebastian’s eyes with a new gleam in his own, fumbling to close the door, and moving in until his face was inches from Sebastian’s.

“Fuck, I’m glad to see you,” he breathed. Sebastian’s heart was thudding but slowly he began to grin back, crinkling his eyes and involuntarily biting at his bottom lip. He could smell Chris’s beery breath, now with a topnote of toothpaste, feel the heat coming off him, and when his gaze fell briefly to Chris’s lips, he suddenly found himself crowded against the hotel room wall. Then Chris’s tongue was sliding over his and he crumpled, elated, because _surely_ now this was it. 

“You OK? You want this?” Chris murmured. Sebastian, no longer confident in his ability to express himself, volunteered a lazy grin and a slow nod. Chris made a face as if he’d just been shown a video of animals being cute. 

“Oh my _GOD_ ,” he said, almost pained. “You’re so fuckin’ _hot_ … I can’t _stand_ it!”

His mouth landed hungrily on Sebastian’s neck, and Sebastian let his head fall back against the wall with a shocked gasp. He ran his hands all over Chris’s bare back, fascinated by the effect of soft skin stretched over hard muscle. _Better_ than a dream.

Chris’s fingers skimmed the skin under his shirt, just above his pants, and he shuddered, wriggling into the touch. 

“Seb, this shirt is obscene,” Chris chuckled into his mouth, tugging the offending garment up and exposing his chest. “Driving me nuts all fuckin’ night.” Sebastian didn’t answer, just raised his arms for Chris to pull the shirt up and over his head. His thoughts jumbled as he was suddenly overwhelmed but touch and skin and Chris’s mouth back on his and the lightest pinch on his nipple. Had that happened already tonight? He was still trying to think when he found himself flung bodily onto the mess of blankets and pillows that Chris had made of his hotel bed.

Sebastian was a man of the world, and confident in his bedroom prowess. He took pride in taking the lead with a new partner, in bringing out his best moves and showing her a thoroughly good time. So it was surprising and even a little unsettling, to be reminded of how exciting he found this: to be manhandled and manoeuvred, to feel strength instead of softness in a partner’s body. To feel light and desired in their arms. He couldn’t get enough.

“Gah” he grinned, trying to articulate his enthusiasm, as Chris crashed down on top of him and they kissed again, hard, masculine, with a ferocity Sebastian wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced. It was exhilarating. Chris was on top of him, all over him, pinning him down, and he _loved_ it – the feeling that Chris was driving this thing, and he was just along for the ride. The thought freed him, and he let his body move the way it wanted, grinding up against Chris and wrapping around him.

“I had no idea,” Chris panted between kisses. “… I’ve wanted you, Seb. So bad.” 

Sebastian was barely listening, but Chris babbled on. “I was terrified I came on too strong,” he said. “I’m… am I?”

“Huh?”

“Coming on too strong?”

Sebastian shook his head furiously. “No! God, no,” he gasped. For someone who usually prided themselves on their sweet talk, he was having a hard time with words. Instead he grabbed one of Chris’s hands and brought it to the button of his pants, using his other hand to bring Chris’s face back in range for more kissing. His upper body occupied, he struggled awkwardly to kick his shoes off onto the floor.

Chris chuckled, undeterred by this lack of smoothness. 

“Damn! You’re hot as hell, baby, I swear!”

Baby.

Chris was fumbling with his fly, and Sebastian was blazing. Writhing, now; thrusting clumsily, feeling without thinking. 

He shuddered as he felt Chris yank his pants and underwear all the way off, then giggled behind his hands when Chris paused to pull his socks off, too. Then Chris met his eye with a predatory grin, and the giggle faded into a gasp. Sebastian felt a brief flash of modesty, suddenly aware that he was exposed, vulnerable in a way that would almost definitely make him self-conscious if he were sober right now.

Then Chris was over him.

And if he were sober right now, he’d be downright embarrassed by the filthy moans he made, when Chris sucked on his neck and wrapped a warm hand around his dick, jerking him off slowly.  
He felt as though he’d been teased all night, and almost immediately he roared right back to the edge of orgasm, close to desperate now. But Chris was stroking him slow, building him up but refusing to finish him. Pleasure prickled at his skin, desperation throbbed in his pelvis.

Then, without warning, Chris leg go and grabbed him instead by both hips, rolling them over so that Sebastian flopped uselessly on top of him, his legs falling weakly either side of Chris’s. Undeterred, Sebastian found Chris’s mouth again and rutted against his pyjama-clad erection, while strong hands grasped his ass and pulled him down tightly. Chris’s voice was in his ear again, Chris’s fingers stroking towards his…

“So, uh, I gotta ask… did you ever take a dick before, babe?” Chris whispered, at the same time letting a spit-slicked finger dip right down between Sebastian’s cheeks, grazing over his hole, making him jump. He gasped in shock.

“OH my… huh… no, I, uh… not… I mean, no,” he stuttered into Chris’s broad chest, which seemed to shudder at his response.

“Oh, Seb, it’s the _greatest_ feeling,” Chris went on. His hips rolled rhythmically upwards and his finger tugged gently at Sebastian’s rim. Unthinkingly he jerked his ass upwards, perhaps trying to find that teasing finger. His dick was so hard it was almost unbearable, and he wasn’t convinced there _was_ a better feeling than this. 

“I gotta show you sometime,” said Chris’s voice low in his ear, sending a shiver through him.

“ _God_ , yes,” Sebastian croaked, thrusting involuntarily against Chris. The Picture flashed before his eyes and without warning he was spun onto his back again, with Chris kissing his way down his neck. His hand returned to Sebastian’s dick, but picked up the same infuriatingly slow rhythm as before.

“CHRIS!” came Sebastian’s strangled yelp. Chris looked up, smiling. 

“You OK babe? You almost there?” he panted.

Sebastian tried to snarl, but produced a whimper instead. “Not fuckin’ close enough,” he managed.

“Uh huh,” Chris replied, with mock concern, still pumping his hand up and down at a leisurely pace. “You think maybe it would be better if I blew you?”

There was an awkward silence. Sebastian, who had until that moment craved nothing more than a more rapid hand on his dick, was struggling to compute what had just been said. He stared.

“Can I?” Chris prompted, between slow kisses to Sebastian’s collar bone. He lifted his head, concerned, to find Sebastian still staring, his mouth opening and closing without speaking: torn between “You really don’t have to” and “Oh fucking hell YES PLEASE.”

“Can I suck your dick, Sebastian?” he asked again, low and thick, dropping kisses over Sebastian’s jawline. “I want to. I, uh, I really want to, Seb. I’ll make it real good.”

Sebastian nodded, at last, dumb with gratitude, and found the wherewithal to pull Chris into another kiss before his mouth began to work its way down Sebastian’s trembling body. Once again, Sebastian felt that sense of unreality, as if all of this was happening in a parallel universe. The anticipation of what was to come was almost too great, but part of him feared that even now, he might _still_ not be allowed to come. That something would go wrong.

When Chris reached Sebastian’s belly, the kisses grew wetter. 

“Look at these fuckin’ abs,” Chris muttered, almost to himself, tracing their outline with his tongue. Sebastian whimpered. 

Then he was moving even lower, wandering across to Sebastian’s hip with open-mouthed slurps that faded from warm to cool. When Sebastian glanced down, Chris met his eye and sank his teeth gently into the soft hollow inside Sebastian’s hip bone, then sealed his lips into a vacuum and sucked hard, flicking his tongue against the skin as it bruised.

Sebastian cried out and jerked violently. He felt suddenly overloaded, not sure whether to recoil from the sensation or go with it. Thankfully Chris made the choice for him. He released Sebastian’s dick and pinned him by the hips so he could suck slow marks in all the places that made Sebastian squirm. The V-shaped groove where his thigh met his abdomen, where he was so sensitive. The very lowest point on his belly, just above the line where his hair grew thicker. The soft, pale spot right inside his thigh, so secret Chris had to push his leg up to find it.

Why did this feel so _good_? Dimly, Sebastian recollected what Carlos had said, that day, about Chris being the best he’d ever had. So far, Sebastian was in no mood to disagree. The sting, the ache, the promise of a soft mouth, a strong tongue and a powerful suck… Sebastian couldn’t take any more of this.

“PLEASEdon’ttease,” he begged, screwing up his face tightly.

Chris looked up, almost apologetic.

“Hey, hey,” he said, soothingly. “You can come in my mouth, OK?” 

Sebastian had never heard such beautiful words. 

He barely had time to thank all that was good for Chris’s great communication skills, however, before his dick was enveloped in _delicious_ slippery heat. The fire that had been burning away in his abdomen roared to life as if somebody emptied a gas tank onto it. Apparently, Chris was an artist. This was going to be over _real_ quick, he realised.

Ragged cries tore out of him, as he lost himself to boundless pleasure. He clutched randomly at the bed sheets and at Chris’s hair as that unbearable mouth worked up and down, smooth lips with a firm grip, soft tongue in constant motion. Chris was moaning around his cock, he could feel it as well as hear it, and when Sebastian strained his neck to try and watch, he saw that… fuck! Chris was on his knees with his own pants halfway down and was jerking himself off, just as vigorously as he was sucking on Sebastian’s dick. His eyes were closed in rapture, eyelashes fanning on his cheeks.

The image was too much. 

He cried Chris’s name, in warning or in praise, as his body rushed like white water and swept him away in vision-blurring bliss. Every second of confusion and build-up and frustration and anticipation that night was worthwhile, for this, _this_ , this ecstasy, this relief, this blinding climax, the sensation of Chris’s mouth still moving relentlessly around him. He was still shaking with it when Chris’s hot come spattered the insides of his thighs, and _another_ wave of orgasm socked him in the gut, surprising them both, making them moan together, until moans faded to sated sighs.

All of Sebastian’s muscles untensed, relaxed, softened into the sweat-damp bedsheets. He felt inexpressibly wonderful. Chris was a magical being who deserved awards.

It took him some time to gather up his mind, and he was still whimpering to himself when Chris’s face came into view, tongue hanging out to lick at his lower lip, a jubilant grin on his face. Sebastian stared at him, all sensation and no language, beyond a croaked “Wow.” His eyes flicked down to his own thighs, where several blobs of come were now cooling. 

Chris followed his eyeline and dabbed at the offending fluid with a finger, then looked up with a guilty grimace.

“Sooorry,” he giggled.

“Hnnnngh,” Sebastian answered. His head flopped back on the pillows. Language didn’t return to him when he felt Chris’s soft mouth licking his thighs clean, or when the same mouth slowly kissed its way back up to his, or when he tasted Chris’s come from his own tongue, or when Chris murmured “ _God_ , you’re amazing,” in his ear, making his stomach turn with happiness.

Words didn’t come to express his mess of feelings when Chris turned off the lamp, threw an arm across him and nuzzled his face into Sebastian’s neck, giving him a final, drowsy kiss, or even when he heard soft snores permeate the air.

Sebastian lay still, staring at a point of light in a gap between the curtains to keep the room from spinning, tracing meaningless words with his fingers along the forearm which lay on his stomach. Still the language didn’t come. He couldn’t explain to himself what had just happened. Instead, feelings rose and fell – a soft thrum of contentment, a trace of the thrill of danger, a strong urge to repeat the events of the last hour as soon as possible. What a night, what an incredible man. 

Chris. The feeling there, when he looked at Chris, was so acute he couldn’t dwell on it for long.

The nerves which had been bubbling under flared up, now, although Sebastian couldn’t pinpoint the cause of his anxiety. They were drunk, both of them, and more than anything, he wanted to make sure that things didn’t get weird. In another minute he’d be asleep, and then it would be morning, and who knew how Chris would react when confronted with what they’d done? 

His mouth was dry, now, and his head was beginning to throb. He needed water.

The last thing he wanted was to put Chris on the spot, or make him feel awkward, or give him cause to retreat from their friendship. Chris needed to know that Sebastian was completely cool with this. That he was not the needy type, that he could be just as free and easy as Carlos. This was definitely not the time to get clingy.

He gently lifted Chris’s arm and clambered out from underneath it, out of the bed, and felt around for his discarded clothes. Thank God, his wallet with his room key was still in the pocket of his pants. Almost embarrassed at himself, he leaned over and brushed a kiss to Chris’s cheek, then slipped out of the door, closing it softly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	7. Chapter 7

The angry sound of Sebastian’s phone alarm cut into the disturbing dream he was having about chewing on a ball of gum too big for his mouth. He woke to find himself naked, face down on top of his bed, with a mouth like a stranded jellyfish.

He let the alarm ring for a while, getting steadily louder, until he could summon the strength to find it – in the pocket of his pants, discarded on the floor – and turn it off. Ugh, he felt as though he’d slept for half an hour, max. Why the fuck did he allow himself to be talked into going out last night? He was sooo not a clubber.

A sharp pain stabbed him behind the eyes when he rolled slowly onto his side, and tried to lift his head. His body protested with the kind of random aches and twinges that tend to appear after a night out, with their origins shrouded in mystery. God, this was bad. This was going to require serious strength of character.

Ignoring the nauseous emptiness in his stomach and the useless weight of his limbs, Sebastian dragged himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t very excited by the prospect of a 12-hour flight to Atlanta, but at least he could sit still all day with no-one trying to make him do stuff.  
He stumbled to the shower, still with his eyes half-closed, and cursed himself again for drinking so much. What did he even drink? He remembered getting ready in his room, meeting up with the others, a few flashes of the inside of the club. A heaving dancefloor. Various co-workers letting their hair down. … woah, he hadn’t blanked this hard after a night out since college. What a stupid asshole.

The streams of water from the shower felt like hot needles bouncing off his scalp. Whimpering, he reached for the controls and turned it down, then made a rudimentary attempt to wash himself. Had… Chris been there last night? Yes! Of course. They had sat close together in the taxi. That had been nice. Sebastian smiled fondly to himself, recalling how happy he’d been to be squished up against Chris’s side like that. Ugh, he prayed he hadn’t said or done anything stupid at the club. Shit. No doubt the others would be happy to fill him in.

Fortunately Sebastian was a light traveller and it didn’t take much time or effort for him to pull on a clean outfit and throw the rest in his bag. He couldn’t stomach anything more than a pastry and a coffee to go from the hotel buffet, but it was enough to fuel him until the plane.

*

Sebastian made his way to the lobby, where he stood in a corner to slurp his coffee and chew on his croissant. Sighing, he looked down at the crumbs clinging to the front of his shirt, and as he brushed them off he felt a pair of eyes on him. A woman behind the reception desk was giving him her best knowing smile.

This happened sometimes. Sebastian had a bit of profile, after all. He gave a watery, joyless curl of the lips and a nod, which earned him an audible giggle, then went back to nursing his coffee, praying that his taxi would arrive soon or that anyone but Chris would arrive to give him the lowdown on the night he could barely remember.

But it wasn’t to be. Hangover or not, Sebastian’s stomach somersaulted when he saw Chris stride into the lobby with a cap on his head and a pull-along case. The bastard looked fresh as a daisy, and gorgeous as ever. It was always good to see him, but just now Sebastian wasn’t quite prepared to face him. His guts twisted a little with anxiety.

Chris smiled and waved, then came straight over and nudged against him, murmuring “Morning, Cinderella!” out of the corner of his mouth.

Sebastian glowed a little at the pet name, but didn’t follow. “Huh?” was all he could think of.

“You skipped out on me last night.” Chris was still smiling, so that was good, at least.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, right,” Sebastian replied, nervously. Now that Chris mentioned it, he did have a vague memory of travelling alone in a taxi, which must have been his return from the club. Maybe he’d had the sense to leave when he realised how drunk he was.

“So… did you have a good time?” Chris kept his words soft, in contrast to his usual expansive, loud morning voice. It was a little out of character, but Sebastian’s aching head was grateful for the moderation. If he had learned anything from letting Carlos take him clubbing, it was that he could no longer handle hardcore dance clubs or tequila shots.

“Ha, yeah, I _think_ so,” he replied. “Paying for it now, though!” This was going well. So far, no obvious cause for alarm.

Chris nodded, worrying his bottom lip. “Hangover?” he asked. “Yeah, me too, but it was worth it.” 

He smiled, nudging Sebastian with his shoulder.

“Oh, you had fun?” Sebastian smirked.

“YEAH!” Chris replied, almost before he finished asking the question. “I mean, yeah, it was great. Amazing, actually,” he said, almost sheepishly. Damn, his face was cute.

“Yeah? You had a dancefloor epiphany?” teased Sebastian, taking another slurp and sucking the foam off his lip.

Chris blushed very slightly. It was so charming Sebastian felt a little weak at the knees.

“Y’know, I had no idea you were into…” Chris tailed off, glancing around and making a ‘you-know-what-I-mean’ face. Well, he was right about _that_. Sebastian’s hard partying days were pretty much behind him, and today’s misery only confirmed that this should be the case.

“I mean, I’m _not_. Usually,” he said, unable to help himself mirroring Chris’s persistent smile.

“Oh, you made an exception?” Chris raised a knowing eyebrow.

Something in his manner didn’t quite add up. It was almost like he was _flirting_. Had they had a conversation last night? Sebastian was disorientated, but he was still loving this oddly intimate exchange. 

“Well, it was kinda hard to say no,” he smiled back. They both knew that Carlos was incorrigible.

“So, uh… do you think you might wanna… do it again?” Chris asked, still in his headache-friendly murmur.

Sebastian laughed, darkly, and shook his head. “Oooh no. I don’t think so, my friend.”

A frown crossed Chris’s face, and he looked almost disappointed. Sebastian patted his arm.

“Hey, man, look, I think I’m just a little old for all that now, you know what I mean?”

Chris frowned deeper. “I… guess?” he said. It was weird. He looked almost _hurt_ that Seb was declaring himself to be a boring old grandpa. 

“Hey, I’m a loser OK? Don’t let that stop you,” he said. He really, really wanted to hang out with Chris, but he would prefer it to be somewhere he could hear himself think.

Chris turned away from him, still frowning. “Oh! OK, sure. I just thought we, uh…”

He motioned between himself and Sebastian, his words trailing off. Sebastian had an idea.

“Hey, I bet Carlos will be up for it,” he said, kindly. “You know how _he_ is.” 

He grinned and rolled his eyes, aiming for the easy rapport they usually shared, but Chris looked at him as though he’d come out in support of Donald Trump. There was an awkward silence.

“Um,” said Chris.

The warm little bubble that had been growing in Sebastian’s stomach popped. What had he said to put that look on Chris’s face? Shit.

“Hey! Evans! Our ride is here!” Scarlett’s voice rang across the lobby.

“Okay, well, uh…” Chris said, still looking deeply puzzled, and a little green.

“See you… on the plane?” said Sebastian, completely thrown by the way the conversation had gone. He had a strong feeling he was missing something important.

*

The drive to the airport was mercifully short, and Sebastian felt terrible in multiple ways. The hangover was getting worse as the morning wore on, and on top of the physical pain he was suffering, Sebastian was confused by his memory blank and depressed by his conversation with Chris. 

_You’re overreacting_ , he told himself. _You always get depressed after drinking. It’ll be fine_.

Chris kept his distance at the airport, but Sebastian wasn’t in the mood for talking anyway. He smiled to himself when he spotted Carlos, in exactly the same outfit as the night before, with two large coffees that both turned out to be for him, but he made himself inconspicuous. The Berghain post-mortem could wait until Atlanta.

He wasn’t great at sleeping on planes at the best of times, and had no sleeping pills on him, so he spent the long flight in a dazed stupor, catching five-minute naps and flicking aimlessly through movies and TV shows while glugging down litres of water. He almost wanted to cry when he checked his script again and realised he was due on set in Atlanta the very next morning.

*

Fortunately, the time difference between Berlin and Atlanta afforded Sebastian a 12-hour break between landing and preparing for makeup, so he slept for 11 of them. The following morning, he felt only as bitter and exhausted as usual, which was a vast improvement. 

Over a decade into his filmmaking career, Sebastian was still tickled to see the sign with his name on his dressing room door. This was way better than living in a trailer. Staying at a nice hotel was fun, for the first week or two at least, and his temporary home at Pinewood was light and airy, with a fully functioning coffee machine. 

Admittedly he wasn’t yet in with a shot at the Deluxe Star suite down the hall, but the fact that he had his own room at _all_ still blew his mind sometimes. That the doors further down said ‘Scarlett Johansson,” or ‘Don Cheadle,’ or ‘Robert Downey Jr,’ or fucking ‘Chris Evans.’ That people fell over themselves to bring him drinks, or tell him he was doing a great job.

 _Some_ people, anyway.

The door swung open without so much as a knock, and Carlos bounded through it, pulling a trolley of bottles and appliances behind him.

“SOOOOO!” he trilled, “how’s it going with Chriiiis?” 

The weird question caused Sebastian’s nerves to jangle. He looked blank. 

“Whaddya mean?” he asked.

“You know what I meeeeean!” Carlos sang back, dumping his huge bag on the side next to the mirror. If it were possible, he was even more excitable than usual. “Did you guys fuck or what? Am I gonna be in the wedding? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but I just think it would be nice if you did after…”

“What? No! No, we did not _fuck_ Carlos, what the hell?” Sebastian was totally confused. Where was this coming from? 

A cold fear began to prickle at the edges of his fuzzy brain.

“Oh! I get it,” Carlos nodded, sagely. “You ain’t that kind of guy, right?” He gave a conspiratorial wink.

This didn’t bring Sebastian any nearer to enlightenment.

“So just oral?”

“What…?”

“OK! OK. Handjobs are nice too,” Carlos sighed, flinging his hands up. Sebastian shook his head, starting to get irritated now.

Carlos met his eye, then gasped in mock shock and sympathy. “Oh, do NOT tell me you guys only made out. After all that build up, I swear…”

“CARLOS! What are you talking about? We… Chris and I didn’t make out! Will you stop?”

Carlos narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Huh?” he asked, rummaging through his bag and pulling out what looked like a loaded plastic water pistol.

Sebastian continued to shake his head, slowly.

“Then what the hell were you doing in the bathroom for all that time?”

A disturbing sense of unreality settled over Sebastian, and he began to panic in earnest about the hours he’d lost. He had absolutely no memory at ALL of using the bathroom at Berghain.

“Are you sure I… went… to… the bathroom?” he asked, cautiously.

Carlos gaped at him.

“Oh my GOD,” he groaned. “Are you SERIOUS? You don’t REMEMBER? I would laugh if I wasn’t so offended by your consistent attempts to RUIN my good work.”

Sebastian scratched at his scalp, scrabbling around in his head for an explanation.

“I mean, I remember _parts_ of the evening…” he offered, anxiously.

“Oh my God,” Carlos shrieked. One hand waved the water pistol in the air while the other clutched at his pastel pink ‘GENDER IS OVER’ T-shirt. “This is an emergency. We need to work out what happened and how bad this is. GOD!” 

He took a deep breath through his nose, eyes closed, then continued, more slowly. “I mean, look. You’re a perfectly good actor, Sebastian.”

“Uh, gee, thanks?”

“Don’t interrupt, please. What I’m trying to say is that you are doing a great job on the Winter Soldier already. You did not need to get all method. You did not need to FUCKING BRAINWASH YOURSELF, and make your fucking boyfriend cry!”

Sebastian shifted nervously in his chair, his sense of panic increasing. What the hell had he forgotten?

“You’re gonna have to fill me in, Carlos,” he mumbled.

“OK! From the top then!” replied the stylist, abandoning all pretence of getting started on Sebastian’s hair. As usual, he talked with his hands to add drama, as if any were needed.

“So. You drank a lot of beers, and a lot of shots – all of which Chris paid for, by the way, so you can thank _him_ – and after countless hours of staring mournfully across the table at each other, the two of you finally got talking.”

Shit. Now that Carlos described the evening, Sebastian’s fragmented memories began to stitch together in his mind. A cushioned seating area snapped into focus, he and Chris slumped, with stupid grins on their faces. What were they talking about?

“So when I looked up you were all over each other, all googly-eyed and obvious – don’t worry, nobody else gave a fuck what you were doing – and I was sure you were gonna start making out right there, but then…”

“THEN what happened?” interrupted Sebastian, suddenly desperate for answers. He had sudden flash of Chris lounging next to him, his smiling face close to his own. His hands began to shake. 

“Then Chris vamoosed to the fuckin’ bathroom, so I caught him and sent him to the quieter one, y’know? And you were just sitting there like somebody shit in your cereal for a while, and I almost went over, but you it finally fucking dawned on you that you now had a chance to fucking get it right with Chris, somewhere your _terrifying_ co-stars couldn’t see you, and you actually stood your drunk ass up and went after him. I have to admit I was proud of you for one fucking second there.”

Sebastian stared, his face heating up. He remembered a crowded dancefloor, music so loud and relentless it almost put him in a trance, then…

A hallway. Vague, as if it was years ago, not just one day previously. 

Sebastian jolted in his chair as all his muscles tensed at once. His eyes went wide as frisbees. Chris had been there, and…

“Fuuuuuuck!” he hissed at Carlos. “I found him! We were… shit! We were making out like _crazy_!” 

Another memory crashed over him, raising the hairs on his neck with shock and… arousal. It had been absolutely fucking incredible. How the hell had he blanked it out?

“—And just like that, Hydra’s work is undone,” said Carlos, with a self-congratulatory flourish.

Sebastian clapped both hands over his mouth and tried not to hyperventilate.

“Oh my God. Oh my GOD,” he squeaked.

“So when I sent you back to find him, my obvious hope was that you might finally get in his pants, if you’ll excuse my frankness. So NOW, the question becomes, what the fuck happened _next_ , Sebastian?”

Sebastian stared wildly back, hands still covering his mouth.

“I don’t KNOW!” His voice was small and high-pitched, from behind the hands covering his mouth. He was still trying to process the blistering kiss, and follow the sequence of events in his mind towards what he was sure would be a disastrous conclusion. He could picture Chris swathed in blue light, like a sexy, muscly apparition. His own back pressed up against a cold stone wall. Were his… _legs_ wrapped around Chris? Fucking _hell_. He remembered being more turned on that he’d ever been in his life.

This was terrible.

“Hmmm. You don’t have an… unfamiliar… burning sensation… anywhere about your person?” Carlos asked, tentatively.

“What? NO!” Sebastian retorted, ignoring Carlos’s smirk.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands, then smoothed his hair back, making his shirt ride up a little, and stared at the ceiling of his trailer in existential despair. He hadn’t felt this stupid in a long time. What a fucking fuck-up. 

An ear-splitting shriek yanked him out of his drama of self-loathing.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?”

Sebastian jerked back up to see Carlos jabbing at his exposed belly as if he’d seen a giant spider.

Slowly, fearfully, Sebastian lowered his eyes to follow the accusing finger, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced up, frowning. Carlos lifted his own shirt to flash his abs, his sky-high eyebrows demanding that Sebastian do the same.

Obediently, Sebastian raised the hem of his shirt, unable to even guess at what could have Carlos in such a state. 

And there it was. Nestled beside his hip bone. A vivid bruise, fresh red and purpling around the edges, about a day old. Roughly… it was roughly mouth-sized.

What in the…?

His cognitive abilities were still running slow, but apprehension rumbled at the edges of his consciousness. Gingerly, he gave the bruise a little prod, producing a satisfying ache which just made him want to prod it again. Where had…?

“Oh, SHIT!” 

Sebastian’s breath froze in his lungs and he met Carlos’s wide eyes with his own, as a deluge of blurred memories gushed through the floodgates. Chris, half-dressed and irresistible at his hotel room door. Chris, kissing him like he was the only person left on earth. Lowering Sebastian onto his bed, and – Fuck! 

With a gulp, he looked down again and pulled at the hem of his track pants with his thumbs.

“Oh, Good God!” cried Carlos, looking away dramatically.

There were more. More achey little bruises, in the sexiest of spots. Where Chris’s truly gifted mouth had been, immediately before – 

Sebastian’s heart skittered, his breathing shallow. He looked up again with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“OhmyGod, he… he sucked my…”

“YES I kinda put that together,” Carlos interjected, clapping his hands sharply. “And can I assume it… worked for you?”

He wasn’t asking in the gossipy tone he’d used earlier, but in the manner of a teacher demanding a student hand over their gum. Hand on hip, expectant.

“It was unbelievable,” Sebastian squeaked back. 

Christ, it really had been. He was actually starting to get turned on at the patchy memories he had of the experience. WHY had he drunk so much? A clear memory like that would probably last him the rest of his life. Somewhere in the dark cave at the back of his mind, a voice growled ‘MORE.’

Carlos did his best to hide a smirk. “Soooo, I guess you guys didn’t share a romantic morning shower?”

“No! Stop!” Carlos’s words were beginning to scare him, now. No, they hadn’t showered together. Sebastian had woken up alone in his room. And then he’d—

Oh.

Oh NO.

Of every memory he’d regained that morning, THIS was the one that brought beads of cold sweat to Sebastian’s brow. He could only gasp in horror as he called to mind his conversation with Chris in the hotel lobby.

Carlos’s face, which had finally relaxed, returned to red alert. “Sebastian, this is getting to be too much of a rollercoaster even for me. Maybe we could wait until you’ve remembered everything you can before we have any more dramatic reactions?”

This time, Sebastian was too paralysed to say anything. He just gaped. His eyes darted around the room in panic, and he caught a glimpse of his pale, clammy reflection in the unflattering mirror built into the trailer. The hangover was mostly gone, but he still almost brought up that morning’s coffee.

His anguished expression made the stylist truly concerned, now, for the first time that day. “What did you do?” he asked. 

“He came up to me the next morning and asked me if I wanted to do it again!” Sebastian said, his cheeks beginning to flush pink, now, in abject mortification. 

“And you said…?” Carlos waved a circle with his hand to try and spin the story on.

“I thought he was talking about clubbing!” replied Sebastian. “I said I was too old! I said… Oh my GOD! I said he should ask YOU if you were up for it!”

“WHAT??!!”

Sebastian massaged his forehead, staring at the floor, torturing himself with the memory. This explained Chris’s puzzled and, he realised now, _hurt_ responses to his oblivious chatter at the hotel. His _face_. An icy hand twisted at his guts. How could he ever come back from this?

“Um Sebastian?” Carlos was saying, in a careful, measured voice. “I didn’t wanna have to tell you this, but, um, you should know that Chris and I actually have a little bit of ‘history’, so, uh, I mean it wasn’t a great thing to say anyway, but he probably didn’t take your suggestion so well.”

“I KNOOOOOW,” groaned Sebastian. “I know about that. I’m the biggest asshole ever to have lived.”

“Oh, you do?” Carlos brightened up again. “Phew, glad _that’s_ out of the way! Man, you really shot yourself in the foot, huh?”

Carlos aimed the water pistol at Sebastian’s bare foot and squirted, making him squeak in surprise, then throw an incredulous look at his tormentor.

Carlos cackled. It was kind of humiliating, but somehow reassuring to have him make light of things. 

“OK,” he said, pulling up a chair alongside Sebastian and flinging an arm around his hunched shoulders. “Don’t panic sweetie, we can solve this. Now. I haven’t seen Chris yet, but I’m sure he’s feeling pretty hurt that you have been so blasé about his incredibly fucking awesome dick sucking skills.”

Sebastian sobbed a little. His brain was just catching up with the full implications of what had happened.

Chris would never want to do anything like that with him again after that trainwreck of a conversation, and that was pretty devastating, but it wasn’t even the worst of it. Yeah, he desperately wanted physical stuff with Chris, but he could do without it as long as he could salvage their friendship. The thought of causing a rift, of potentially losing Chris from his life altogether, made him want to vomit.

He realised, with a sinking feeling, that he didn’t feel like that about any of his other co-workers. Or any of his other passing crushes. Or… anyone, really. Not in this way. What the fuck?

“Why is this happening to me?” he wailed.

Carlos rubbed his back.

“Hey, I know. Lady Luck is a total slut sometimes,” he said, gently. His had moved in circles until Sebastian’s breathing slowed.

“Look,” he continued. “Those things you said? It wasn’t your fault. Not really. I mean, yeah, you drank a whole hell of a lot of booze, but I blame myself for this. I do. I dragged your ass out there and filled you with tequila shots – remember those?”

“Oh God,” Sebastian groaned. “I remember _all_ of them.” Just the thought of the throat-burning spirit made his stomach turn over.

“Yeah, well. I did that because I thought it would make you two dumbasses get over yourselves.”

Sebastian managed a faint laugh.

“Well, it kinda worked…” he said.

“GOOD! Let’s focus on the positives here!” Carlos grinned. “You know what you want, you know what /em>he wants, all you gotta do know is talk to him.”

“And say what? So sorry, you were so good that the whole thing just slipped my mind? You think that will make it better? I’m _fucked_ , man.” 

“Not yet, apparently,” said Carlos. “But there’s still a chance we could change that.”

Sebastian allowed himself a weak smile. He admired Carlos’s optimism, but he wasn’t sure the stylist really understood the extent of his feelings. Hell, he didn’t really understand them himself.

Carlos swivelled their chairs so they were facing each other, and grabbed Sebastian by the shoulders. He fixed him with a sincere gaze which had Sebastian too intimidated to look away.

“I believe in you, Sebastian,” he said. “I believe you can talk your way out of this deep, dark, rude, dismissive, cruel hole you have dug, and back into that man’s bed.” 

He was nodding as he spoke, and Sebastian nodded along with him, although he didn’t share Carlos’s confidence.

“You will have to find a way, because you’re on set with him in like, an _hour_ ,” Carlos concluded. “I’m gonna have to work fast. Char’s gonna be here in like, two seconds, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think there’s any makeup on earth that can save that miserable face this morning. Bucky’s in a bad mood today, right?”

He leapt up and reached into his bag of tools, leaving Sebastian reeling in his swivel chair. An hour. His stomach churned as badly as it had the morning after Berghain, and his mind boggled. What could he possibly say to make this right?

*

Sebastian shuffled through wardrobe in a fog of self-loathing and regret, trying to cling to the sliver of hope Carlos had handed him. He’d apologise, maybe blame his nerves. If all went well, he’d let Chris know that he had, in fact, had a wonderful time and would absolutely be keen to repeat the experience. If not, then at least he could reaffirm their friendship. 

He headed over to the day’s studio and spotted the familiar silhouette of Chris’s rear view almost immediately. His dick twitched, very inappropriately. That goddamn motherfucking clingy Cap suit.

 _C’mon, Sebastian. It’s only a conversation_.

He approached the blue-clad outline, trying hard not to dwell on the powerful shoulder blades, grabbable waist and ridiculously perfect ass. Unsure of what to say, he reached out and tapped Chris on the shoulder.

Chris span around, eyebrows raised, and his first reaction on seeing Sebastian was to furrow his brow. Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath as his treacherous memory finally decided to show him an image of Chris, dark-eyed and mischievous, smirking through his eyelashes as he kissed his way down Sebastian’s chest. Fucking _hell_ the guy was gorgeous. 

Sebastian’s gut squeezed. Those mournful blue eyes were more than he could take right now.

“Hey, Chris. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Chris nodded, without smiling, and immediately followed Sebastian around a corner away from the crowds of crew buzzing around the set. Sebastian got straight to the point. 

“About yesterday, at the hotel, I…”

As soon as he spoke, however, Chris butted in.

“OH. No, no, don’t worry about it, man.” he said, breaking into a smile that wasn’t quite convincing.

“I just wanted to apologise…” Sebastian tried again.

“NOOOOO. Nothing to apologise for,” Chris interjected again, waving a dismissive hand. “We’re good.”

“Really? But…”

“I get it, OK? I get it. I’m fine. We’re fine.” Chris was talking fast, arms folded in front of him, not quite as relaxed as he was trying to make out. “I mean, ha, I do this kind of shit a lot, you know? I was just hoping YOU wouldn’t freak out. I’m just glad we’re on the same page, right? We don’t have to make a big deal of it or anything. Honestly. I’m fine.”

Sebastian squinted, watching him babble, trying to keep up. This wasn’t really the kind of response he had hoped for.

“Same page…?” he asked, faintly.

“Yeah! Yeah, you know. No strings. _God_ knows I prefer it that way, know what I mean?” Chris laughed, nudging him. “Sometimes you’re working with someone, and you get… you know, and then suddenly they’re all like ‘Hey, meet my mom?’ and I’m just…” he grimaced, and Sebastian laughed nervously. 

“Yeah, no thanks!” he heard himself say.

“RIGHT? Right, so, uh, yeah. It’s all good.”

There was a pause, while Sebastian tried to make sense of the conversation. He _knew_ this about Chris. He’d told himself all along that the guy wasn’t looking for an ongoing arrangement of any kind. God knew Seb wasn’t the first, even on this fucking movie. So why was he feeling so crushingly disappointed that he had to work hard to get air in his lungs?

He looked up at Chris, trying desperately to force a smile. 

Chris still had a faint crease to his brow. Finally, he scratched the back of his head and glanced off to the side.

“Good night though, right?” he asked, quietly.

“YES! God, yes. The best. Yeah. Thanks! You know,” Sebastian blurted, a little breathlessly.

Chris smiled, a little warmer this time, and they held each other’s gaze in silence for a beat or two. 

Then a runner appeared over Chris’s shoulder.

“OK, we’re ready guys,” she called, waving at Sebastian.

Chris drew himself up.

“OK then!” he boomed. “Let’s, uh… this is a great scene, man. Let’s do this!”

Sebastian stared after him for a second. He scooped up his heart, squared his shoulders and followed along behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah this is my Winter Soldier recovery fic.
> 
> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	8. Chapter 8

“…You’re lying.”

Chris’s sombre blue eyes bored into him, and Sebastian swallowed hard. Was he? He’d never lied outright to Chris, but he was uncomfortably aware that he wasn’t being completely honest, either. Chris had said that workplace flings should be kept brief and impersonal, and Sebastian had gone along with it, but a part of him knew that really, he’d hoped for more. 

Even a sober repeat of the night they’d shared, a week ago now, would give him something to work with in his private time. Instead, he was left with just enough tantalising flashes of memory to drive himself frantic with lust and frustration. It had been something special at the time, he _knew_ it. His own first real encounter with the man he… with _a_ man, and Chris had been _into_ it. But the bruises he’d left, which Sebastian had nursed and nudged and stared at for hours, were faded now. The whole thing was beginning to feel like it had been a dream, after all. A hallucination born of exhaustion, tequila and foolish curiosity.

He almost wished he had dreamed it, sometimes, if only so things could have stayed the same between them. It was subtle, but Sebastian felt the strain in his dynamic with Chris, ever since his attempt to apologise. Chris was pleasant enough, alright, but their former intimacy didn't seem to be there, and its absence had Sebastian miserable. It was as he feared. He had completely fucked up, and now he was going to lose a treasured friendship. 

Even Carlos had had the good sense to leave the subject alone for a while. He helpfully tried to keep Sebastian from wallowing by chattering instead about his own life, casually revealing the kind of scandalous gossip that could wreck careers.

But now, face-to-face, with Chris's accusing gaze leaving him nowhere to hide, Sebastian realised he didn't have a clue what to say.

"Cut!" called Anthony Russo's calm voice.

"Seb, we're not gonna pause for very long in this scene, okay?" the director said. "Don't forget, Bucky will have picked up on the sense of urgency. He's always on high alert. He's not gonna drag this out."

"Sure, yeah. Sorry," Sebastian mumbled. Fuck, this thing with Chris was really starting to interfere with his performance. At least he didn’t have to worry about his closeup: Bucky was supposed to look tired, nervous and guilty in this scene. 

_Focus, Stan._

"OK, we're going again,"

Sebastian held his mark and waited for Captain America to notice his presence. Chris was always so goddamn professional, like he found this easy. He probably did.

_The guy fucked me like he loved me._

“Action.”

Amazing, how this man could appear to be so interested one moment, and indifferent the next. What a fucking actor. Give the guy an Oscar, honestly. He’d never given Sebastian any reasons to expect anything, really, but this was… tough. _He’s got his eye on someone_ , Carlos had said, that day in Germany when Sebastian shouldn’t have been listening.

Figures.

“Do you know me?”

Dammit, why did Chris have to look at him so earnestly? The question prickled the skin on the back of Sebastian’s neck, and he wasn’t sure if that was Bucky reacting, or his own hyper focus on his relationship with Chris. He had to keep his head in the game.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

God, poor Bucky. Patching his life together through snapshots and other people’s accounts. How would he ever learn to deal with the Winter Soldier years? Steve would help him. He was clearly dying to, once he was sure he could trust Bucky.

Sebastian made it through the scene this time, grateful for the action sequences to come.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck,” said Captain Fucking America.

Ha. How was it going to end, then? With a handshake? A hollow promise to keep in touch? I guess I’ll see you on the press tour?

Bucky gritted his teeth.

“It always ends in a fight.”

At least now he had a legitimate reason to spend a couple of hours punching stuntmen and walls.

*

While Chris and the crew gathered around for a look at the footage, Sebastian slunk off by himself. He pulled his phone out of his bag. It wasn’t quite midday yet, but he was hungry and liked the idea of a lunch date with his headphones. Being around Chris was getting difficult, anyway; it wasn’t like the guy had got any less jaw-droppingly hot since he’d cooled off on Sebastian.

It also wasn’t like he’d got any less obsessed with the goddamn picture Dan had sent him, or any less burningly curious about what the Bucky in it was feeling. The opposite, in fact. He was sure Chris had whispered something in his ear when they were together; a question, then a promise; and the words ran around his head almost constantly. Too bad it wasn’t gonna fucking happen.

He left the studio as unobtrusively as possible and made for the cafeteria furthest from the day’s shoot. Digging into his shoulder bag as he walked, he pulled out his headphones and slipped them over his ears. Before he could cue up a track and block out the world, however, he heard rapid footsteps behind him, and a pair of elegant, brown hands grabbed him by the waist.

Carlos pulled the can away from Sebastian’s left year and loudly whispered “Mind if I join you?”

/em>Ugh. There goes my wallow time, thought Sebastian, although if he was honest, he was glad of the company. Carlos was good fun, but if Sebastian didn’t want him to, he wouldn’t intrude on the Chris thing.

Much.

They sat to face each other, and Carlos smiled, kindly, over his quinoa salad.

“You OK sweetie?” he asked.

Sebastian sighed and prodded his bland white fish fillet with his fork. 

“Yeah. You know,” he mumbled.

“You’re still in character, right?” pouted Carlos.

When he caught the mock-serious expression on his friend’s face, Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Don’t mock my creative process! GOD!” he said, tossing his head like a diva.

Carlos laughed loudly at that, and Sebastian enjoyed the moment of levity, but his face soon dropped again.

“Hey, look, I won’t make you talk about the Chris thing if you don’t want…”

“CARLOS! Jesus!” hissed Sebastian, glancing about himself at the mostly empty cafeteria. 

“Relax! No-one’s listening!” Carlos replied, through a mouthful of superfood.

That was rich, coming from someone with such a flexible approach to discretion. There may only have been a handful of others in the room, sitting at a safe distance, but Sebastian was uncomfortably reminded of the last time Carlos had made that assumption. Fuck, what a mess THAT had led to.

“There’s not really much to say,” he said, in a tone that wasn’t a million miles from Bucky’s resigned mumble in the scene he just shot.

“I mean, obviously, there’s a _lot_ to say, but… up to you, friend,” Carlos prompted.

Sebastian hesitated.

“There really isn’t. It happened, it was cool, it’s over. I kinda wish I could actually _remember_ it properly, but… y’know. We’re fine.”

Carlos gave him a familiar look.

“Cos you’re both so happy to leave it at that.”

His sceptical deep brown eyes lasered through Sebastian’s bullshit even before he could think it up. Sebastian surrendered.

“OK. I wouldn’t mind another round. But I don’t wanna be all… clingy. That’ll _really_ scare him off. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he sees us as friends.”

 _If that,_ he thought, dejectedly.

“Yup. Friends who hold hands and cook together and sit on each other’s dicks all the time.”

Sebastian sucked in a breath to bite back with something sarcastic, but he completely lost the thread of what he was going to say. Carlos’s words conjured up images that made him feel strangely warm, and tugged a little at his chest. Admittedly the dick-sitting had been on his mind pretty much non-stop for a while now, but he’d not really allowed himself to think much beyond the sexy stuff to the… domestic stuff.

The _romantic_ stuff.

Immediately he brought down his mental shutter and snapped his eyes back to Carlos’s.

“No, he really doesn’t want to do any of that with me. I mean, he told me it bugs him when people try to meet his /em>mom.”

“And you believed him?”

“Yes! I’m not a fucking stalker!”

“You didn’t think he might be as full of shit as _you_ are?”

Sebastian stopped chewing for a second, but only a second. Nah, that didn’t explain it. Fucking Carlos. Always trying to give him stupid dumb hope. He wasn’t gonna make _that_ mistake again. 

Although… no. Maybe. Chris had certainly seemed to want him last week. In the right circumstances, perhaps…

“Look. If there’s something you want, you’ve gotta at least _try_ to get it,” Carlos said, interrupting Sebastian’s thoughts. “You need to believe in yourself the way I do, hot stuff.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“Wanna bet?” Carlos sat back, with folded arms and a cocked eyebrow.

Sebastian stared back at him. For the umpteenth time that day, The Picture formed itself in his mind. Just some lines on paper, on a screen, but the effect on his libido had been seismic. A familiar twinge of arousal made him shift in his seat. What if…

“You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?”

“I’m not thinking about anything!”

The eyebrow didn’t move.

“OK, well, can’t a guy take an interest in… new things?”

Carlos grinned and bit his lip, blinking in over-emotional approval. He leaned forward, smiling conspiratorially.

“Sure he can. I _highly_ recommend it, in fact. Do you want me to give you some tips?”

“No!”

“Oh, come on!” he said, a little too loudly for Sebastian’s comfort. “You can’t get into this with no _preparation_.”

Something about those words made Sebastian blush. “Get into… Carlos, I just told you nothing’s happening!”

Carlos eyed him in unimpressed silence. He picked up his fork and went to take another bite of quinoa. Where did this guy get off, making so many assumptions about Sebastian’s deepest desires? So what if he was completely right? OK, maybe he was a little curious about how one would approach the physical side of things, but he was not going to give the self-styled fairy godmother that satisfaction. Not when he had a source that was a safe distance from Atlanta.

“Anyway,” Sebastian huffed. “Even if Chris _wasn’t_ over it, I couldn’t. It would be… unprofessional.”

Sebastian could have sworn a piece of onion landed right on his cheek as Carlos spat out half of his mouthful in a gale of laughter; loud, high-pitched and contagious. He bent forward, smacking the table, then looked up at Sebastian and started again, so hysterical that actual tears trickled down his cheeks. A few more people had wandered into the cafeteria by now, and a few strange looks were thrown their way, but Sebastian didn’t really care. Once again Carlos had managed to drag his spirits out of the gutter, and before long, he was chuckling at himself. 

Eventually Carlos calmed down, giving only the occasional giggle between heaving breaths.

“Oh my God, that was great,” he said. “Did I get you? Oh my God, I got you.” He dabbed at Sebastian’s face with a paper napkin, before wiping his own eyes. “Unprofessional!” he squealed, shaking his head. “Yeah. Can’t do that. God no.”

Sebastian smirked at him. “OK I’m done for the day, I’m taking my professional ass home.”

“But you need my…”

“Carlos, you’re a gift to my life. Honestly. But you’re also not the only loudmouth gay in it, OK?”

Carlos gasped, as if mortally offended, but he was still on a high from his laughter fit.

“There’s ANOTHER? I’m hurt, Sebastian. Really. He’d better not be your other bridesmaid. Wait, is he hot?”

Sebastian was already standing up to leave.

“Bye, Cupidito.”

“OK sugar. Thank me later. And BELIEVE IN YOURSELF,” Carlos hollered, as he headed for the door.  
He didn’t want to admit it, but Carlos had sowed a little seed of hope in Sebastian’s mind. Or maybe given a gentle nudge to a thought that was already there. Chris could be persuadable. Why not? ‘No strings’ didn’t have to mean ‘never again.’

When Sebastian thought about Chris, which was often, he’d feel this overpowering _want_ , like being ravenously hungry. It was so big it pushed everything else out. His mind concocted scenarios that cast him as the trusted confidant one minute, and the cherished lover the next.

Some days, he just hoped they would keep in touch more often after filming this time. 

Other days, he admitted to himself how badly he wanted Chris to fuck him.

*

Sebastian stretched out on his fluffy hotel pillows and reached for a tissue to dab at his stomach. Carlos had been right. There was something he wanted, and there was a clear someone whom he hoped to persuade to provide it. He just – he needed a little more confidence when it came to the, uh, practicalities.

Sure, he could go to the internet, but he needed a bit more than the words on a screen. He needed the encouragement and guidance of someone safe, trustworthy, expert, and very far removed from this movie. He needed Dan Richards.

It was still pretty early in the evening, and Sebastian decided to ride this wave of bravado right then and there. He reached for his phone, supressing the spike of nerves that briefly tried to dissuade him. Dan picked up within three rings, God bless him.

“My good friend! What brings you do interrupt my glamorous networking dinner with Broadway’s Scott Rudin?”

Dan’s slow, deep, stoner-y drawl enveloped him like a warm hug.

“Oh, shit, sorry man, you’re out?” blustered Sebastian, not really processing Dan’s sarcasm.

“Kidding, I’m on my couch with Rupaul and a pizza. You’re actually pretty lucky I’m wearing pants.”

Sebastian laughed. After all the angst of the past week, it was great to hear such a familiar voice. He didn’t mention that he himself had already jettisoned his own daywear.

“So did you get any feedback on your latest gay performance?” Dan asked, without bothering to swallow his mouthful of pizza first.

Sebastian choked, silently, for a second, before reminding himself that Dan was talking about the ‘audition’ he’d invented last time.

“Sort of,” he said. “That’s why I’m calling, actually.” 

He paused. 

“Oh yeah?” said Dan, sounding interested.

Sebastian took a deep breath, steeled himself. This wasn’t a big deal. Dan was the world’s most laid-back friend. He was going to be totally cool with this.

“Look,” he started. “I’m actually calling because… Well, hypothetically, what if I… maybe… wanted this guy to. Um. Fuck me?”

There was a long moment of silence, during which Sebastian started to feel very nervous. He knew this was potentially big news, but he hoped he’d put it in safe hands.

“Dan?”

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” came his friends voice, with a waver of emotion. “I was just trying to compose myself. I have never been more proud of you, sweetheart.”

Sebastian gave a relieved laugh, feeling an unexpected prick of emotion himself.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, still a little nervously.

“The ‘audition’ went well, then, you fucking liar?”

As he hoped, Dan found the right way to get him back on track. He laughed, breathlessly, glad he’d made the call.

“No thanks to you, yeah,” he said, “But I kind of messed up after. I don’t know if he…. I think it might have just been a one-time thing.”

“But you’re hoping for round two: the home run?”

Sebastian acknowledged to himself that yes, that was exactly what he was hoping for.

“Jesus. Yes. Yeah, I guess. I mean, I would… like that? But I really can’t tell if he wants to.”

God. This was meant to be a light hearted, manly conversation about the specifics of male-on-male relations, not an excuse to cry on Dan’s shoulder.

Fortunately, Dan laughed.

“Let me just ask you one thing, Seb. Have you seen yourself? Like, have you looked in a mirror?”

Sebastian blushed.

“Seriously, man, I got this fuckin’ scruff, these _eye bags_ …”

 _This giant fucking foot in my mouth_ , he thought.

“Stop it. I’m gonna tell you the fucking truth. You are the most adorably gorgeous piece of ass in all of Atlanta right now, and if you’re seriously wondering whether some dumbass cool-acting douchebag wants to have _sex_ with you, the answer is, without a doubt, 100% YES.”

“He’s not a douchebag…”

“YES. Yes, he does. The question is, whether he deserves that privilege.” 

Something about Dan’s tone made Sebastian prickle a little.

“Look, he’s really not an asshole. It was my fault. Kind of.”

Dan snorted. Sebastian felt bizarrely defensive of Chris, like he wanted Dan to think well of him, but he really didn’t want to get into the details of what had happened between them. He needed to hold it close, like a jealous secret.

“But look. Say he… does want to… with me. I just… it’s, uh, it’s good, right?”

Fortunately, his stumbled question diverted Dan off the mystery man trail. The voice on the phone gave a long and dramatic sigh, as if he’d now understood the crux of Sebastian’s call.

“When it’s good, it’s life-changing,” Dan said. “When it’s bad, it’s painful and awkward and gross and you never want to see them again. I hope your guy knows what he’s doing.”

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he does,” he said, as the familiar, vexing image of Chris and Carlos flashed across his mind, overlaid with snapshots of the drunken night they’d shared.

“Woah, you found yourself an experienced top?” Dan said, with feigned awe. “Good work you! Go get it, Seb! You know…. I’d say this to any guy. If you’ve got a shot at getting fucked really good, you kinda owe it to yourself to take it.”

This was more like the talking-to Sebastian was looking for. He perked up considerably.

“Just, y’know, relax, chill, communicate what you want. You’ll be good. Tell me everything afterwards,” Dan went on. He was almost a little glib, as if distracted by the TV.

“That’s it? C’mon man, don’t make me look on Reddit for this,” Sebastian whinged.

Another chuckle. “Oh my God, you want the 101? I’m so glad you came to me,” replied Dan, fully focused again. “OK, so. You know when your girl slips you the finger?”

Blunt as always. Sebastian was slightly taken aback.

“Um. No?” 

“What, are you… are you serious? Never?”

Sebastian was silent. He would have remembered. Was it really that weird not to have done this?

“Damn, what is up with those uptight Hollywood chicks?” Dan mused. “OK then. Remember when you did your college girlfriend in the ass, but she wasn’t really into it?”

Sebastian let out a splutter and turned purple.

“Aha!” said Dan, knowingly. “OK, the reason that didn’t work out was because a. you didn’t know what you were doing, b. you failed to use the requisite gallon of lube, and c. she lacked a prostate.”

“Oh my God…” Sebastian full on laughed at that, partly to cover his embarrassment, and partly because Dan was so goddamn funny. Seriously, where would he be without his friends?

“I get the message,” he grinned. “I dunno, you make it all sound so dirty.” 

“Buddy, it’s dirty as hell. That’s why we love it so much,” said Dan. “But.. y’know, you don’t wanna get _dirty_ dirty. You wanna clean up good, you know what I’m saying? If there’s any chance at all of getting fucked that night… clean that shit up. Literally. OK?”

Sebastian considered for a moment. He was slightly embarrassed, but impressed by Dan’s ability to give him what he needed so concisely. Suddenly, he didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“OK. Thanks. Oh my God. I’m gonna go now,” he said.

“Wait… so who’s the guy? Did you meet him in a bar in Atlanta?” 

This was exactly the kind of questioning Sebastian had feared.

“No! God, Dan…”

“But you called me from Germany before…”

Sebastian could almost hear the cogs whirring. Maybe this guy was actually stoned after all.

“…So he’s… on the _movie_? Do I _know_ him?”

“Bye, Daniel.”

“Is it JEREMY RENNER?”

“BYE, DAN.”

He hung up the phone and thought for a minute, then got out of bed and headed for the shower.

*

When Sebastian arrived on set the next day, it was with a new sense of purpose. Chris had said ‘no strings’ and Sebastian was MORE than cool with that. Of course. He just wanted to try something new, and badly enough that he was willing to make a move. 

It had been ten whole days since their encounter in Berlin, and every day he grew slightly more obsessed. He was carrying his desire around like an all-over itch that wouldn’t let him rest – if his mind managed to stop thinking about Chris naked, the pulsing in his body would soon remind him. With only a few weeks of shooting left, Sebastian knew he would regret it if he didn’t at least Mem>try to reignite Chris’s interest in him, if only for one more night. 

By the end of the week, he had decided, he was going to ask Chris Evans to go for a goddamn drink, of something other than tequila, and do his best to find out all about why Bucky in the picture looked so goddamn blissed out.

Today they were filming an action sequence which was to take place after the Winter Soldier’s programming had been triggered, immediately before the helicopter scene which held such significance in Sebastian’s memory. This meant that Sebastian would have to punch, kick or throttle almost every other member of the cast. He tended to enjoy the fight choreography, particularly on days like this, when his body struggled to contain what he was feeling.

Coiffed and made up, he headed to the costume department to pull on Bucky’s red Henley, dark jeans and, of course, the arm. He’d made plenty of lube jokes over the years, but today the process caused him to blush a little. Which was unfortunate, since he was still being lubed up by costume assistants when Chris wandered over, wearing jeans, shoes, a cute little smile on his impossibly classic face, and absolutely no shirt.

“Oh, hey, morning Seb,” he said, flashing Sebastian the nicest smile he’d offered him in over a week. “Um, Tiffany? Yeah, I’m not sure I have the right shirt…?” 

He held out a garment to the costumer, who apologised profusely and ran off to find the correct garment. Chris hovered nearby to wait for her, apparently unsure how to hold himself, and Sebastian threw him sideways glances like a furtive schoolgirl. Damn, that body really was remarkable. Sebastian had run his hands across that chest – he could half-remember the feeling of smooth skin over taut, springy muscle – but he couldn’t quite believe it. Those pecs looked so strokeable, he had to physically fight the urge to reach out and prod them.

Chris tapped his foot, distractedly. He started to yawn and did so theatrically, stretching his arms and then resting them over his head. This caused all his muscles to ripple most unnecessarily. 

Sebastian looked away, his blood pumping in his ears. He tried to stifle his own yawn so that Chris wouldn’t notice that he’d caught it from him, which seemed important for some reason.

“Okay, we’re done!” announced Sebastian’s costume assistant, with a final nudge to make sure the arm was securely in place.

“Thanks, man,” Seb smiled, and the assistant walked off, leaving him alone with shirtless, flexing Chris. Fuck. This was an actual opportunity to go through with his plan and ask Chris about that drink, but he couldn’t find the words.

Luckily, as it happened, he didn’t have to.

“Hi!” Chris beamed at him. He was bright and full of warmth, just like he always used to be. After several days of tension, Sebastian hadn’t expected such a friendly approach and it wrong-footed him a little – his stomach swooped as if he’d driven to fast over a bump in the road. 

“So, I was just gonna say… uh, you know Kirsty? Used to do your hair I think?” Chris said, kicking at something invisible on the ground.

“Yeah! Yeah, I do,” Sebastian replied, thinking back to the day Kirsty’s alleged hangover had led Carlos to decide he was taking over Sebastian’s hair, and apparently, his love life. “Girl likes to party?”

“That’s her!” Chris said, pointing a dorky finger gun at Sebastian. “Actually, it’s her, uh, birthday today, so she’s having a get-together? In the hotel bar?”

“Yikes, sounds messy,” Sebastian replied, a bit too eagerly. This was the most relaxed conversation he and Chris had had since the great foot-in-mouth episode, and he was embarrassingly grateful for it.

“Right?” Chris shrugged, still smiling. “Anyway I promised her I’d hit it up, and, uh, I thought since you know her, you might… I mean, I think she’d be stoked if you… hey, all the crew fuckin’ love you, man!”

Sebastian’s cheeks warmed as he realised what Chris was trying to say. “OK, yeah! I’ll go,” he answered, quickly. “What time are you…”

“Oh! Cool!” Chris seemed genuinely happy. “I dunno, whenever we get done here I guess. I can text you?”

“Great!” Sebastian grinned. 

The goofy grin was still on his face a long while after Chris had wandered off. Sebastian hadn’t been cool at ALL, but not one bit of him cared. He was happier than he had since before the Berghain debacle. Not only had Chris warmed up to him again, but he had shirtlessly invited him to a party. That had to be a good sign. 

Maybe he was gonna get lucky after all.

*

Sebastian’s head was all over the place after that. His conversation with Chris had him so hyped with adrenaline that he could barely eat, but thankfully he hadn’t any lines today. Instead, he channelled his turbulent feelings into his violent breakout from the Raft. He put on Bucky’s murderous, robotic gait very easily now, and his aggressive facial expressions always allowed Sebastian to work off a bit of angst.

He spent at least an hour advancing on Chris, kicking him in the midsection and punching him into an elevator shaft, connecting his blows more than once. He’d been apprehensive about the sequence, given how their chemistry had faltered recently – you needed a good rapport if you were going to pretend to beat the shit out of someone – but to his pleasant surprise, Chris seemed his usual, easy-going self. He wound up enjoying the shoot much more than he expected to, and finished on a high.  
Chris caught him again at the end of filming to shake his hand and congratulate him on a good day’s work. Even the firm touch on his hand made Sebastian feel a little giddy. 

Sebastian hastened back to the hotel, where he went straight to the shower and washed more thoroughly than usual, Dan’s advice ringing in his ears. Just in case. Laughing at himself, he pulled on the same sheer shirt he’d worn to the club in Berlin – a shirt he’d come to think of as ‘lucky’ – and tied his hair back into a bun. 

He looked in the mirror and narrowed his eyes at himself. Not bad. His stomach fluttered. Could he really pull off a seduction? Fuck, he didn’t usually doubt himself this much. He took a breath, calling to mind Carlos and Dan’s pep-talks.

At 9.10 his phone buzzed.

Chris: Heading to the bar. Catch you there?

Christ, was it a little sad that even a basic message like this could produce such a zing of excitement? With uncool haste, he tapped back:

Me: Sure! Down in a sec.

He grabbed his wallet and room key and wandered downstairs to look for the bar Chris had mentioned. All he had to do was follow the sounds of excited screeching, and the strains of some loud track which he suspected was by Justin Bieber.

The bar was busy, and dimly lit, but Kirsty spotted him as soon as he sidled in. She staggered over and flung her arms around him. “SEB! ThankyouforCOMING! Wow!” she slurred in his ear, patting him slowly on the cheek.

“Have a DRINK!” she said, loudly, passing him a bottle of beer. Sebastian hesitated, then accepted it with a grateful smile, inwardly promising himself to sip it and make it last. No tequila shots tonight.

“Chris is over there,” Kirsty said, giving him a shove in the direction of the bar. He glanced back at her with a little frown. What was that about? 

He raised the cold bottle to his lips and let his eyes scan the room. There were Maxwell and Carlos, chatting excitedly in a corner. Lizzie Olsen was there, already dancing with some of the girls. And there was Chris, leaning against the bar, crunching his way through a bowl full of chips. He grinned and saluted.

Sebastian felt as though a spotlight had landed on him. Time to pull it out of the bag, stage fright be damned. 

He made his way over and lunged forward to greet Chris with a back-slapping hug, which, happily, was reciprocated.

“Hey! Glad you made it,” said Chris.

“Well, it’s these guys than run the show,” Sebastian replied, waving his beer bottle around the assembled stylists, costumers and set dressers. “Can’t afford to piss ‘em off.”

“God no,” said Chris, raising his own bottle to chink it with Sebastian’s. The both slurped in silence for a while, looking out at the room. 

Sebastian felt at ease, standing there. Chris’s friendly demeanour wiped away all the awkwardness, and a swell of happiness rose in Sebastian, like a homecoming. They stood close, elbows bumping on the bar, nodding along to what passed for music these days.

A though occurred to Sebastain.

“Oh, hey,” he said, “How’s Lisa doing?”

Chris frowned as if he didn’t follow.

“Lisa? Your… mom? I think one time you said she was gonna have some surgery?”

Chris positively beamed.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you remembered her _name_!” he beamed, as if, drunken episodes aside, Sebastian was capable of forgetting a single word he ever said. “Yeah! Yeah, she did great. All recovered and everything. Actually she’s coming to the set next week. You’ll meet her.”

It seemed like a passing remark, but Sebastian lit up inside.

“Cool! Yeah, that’s be great. I can commiserate about her fucking goofball of a son.” He dropped a handful of chips into his mouth. “Mmmmf, damn, these are good,” he mumbled, licking a few crumbs off his bottom lip.

He didn’t hear a reply, and when Sebastian looked up again he was surprised to see the fond smile Chris used to give him, whenever they talked at any length. God, he hadn’t realised how much he had missed that smile. It was like walking out of the shade on a warm day.

Chris dipped into the bowl with a ‘don’t-tell-my-trainer’ grimace. “How’re your folks doing?” he asked.

*

“I mean, it was TOM BRADY.” Tears of laughter wet the corners of Chris’s eyes. Even his laugh was ridiculously attractive. “I’ve never felt like such a fuckin’ dork. Jeez. And I feel dorky a _lot_.”

Sebastian laughed so loudly he got strange looks. The two of them had wound up sitting on a small couch over to one side of the bar, and Sebastian may have had one more beer than he was planning to, but he was sticking here, where he felt loose and cosy but very much in control.

Chris was leaning against the back of the couch, body angled toward him as he giggled charmingly at himself. Sebastian knew he was grinning like a fool. It was just so fantastic to have back the easy friendship he valued so much that he had almost forgotten about his planned seduction attempt.

Until Chris took another chip from the bowl and absently sucked the dust off his own thumb, that is.  
Sebastian was so thrown he blurted out the first thing that came into his head, to keep the conversation going.

“Sorry I punched you today.”

Chris laughed some more.

“Yeah, well, good thing… good thing he loves Bucky so much, huh?” he said, leaning over to grip Sebastian’s knee firmly for a second.

Sebastian gulped.

“Yeah,” he said, suavely.

“I mean, God! He’s desperate. He’ll do anything, won’t he?”

Sebastian shrugged and nodded. Character chat, he could do.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he’s important to Bucky, too.”

They looked at each other for a minute. Then Chris dropped his eyes and chuckled.

“How gay is this fucking movie, man?”

Wow. It was a few weeks since the two of them had talked about that subtext, and strangely, Sebastian had been too preoccupied with his constant thoughts about Chris to dwell too long on how things could pan out for Steve and Bucky. Chris was right, though. Cap’s devotion to his best guy was extreme, even though Bucky was unpredictable at best.

“Could be gayer,” his mouth said, before his brain could catch up. “I mean, they didn’t even give us a fucking sex scene.”

He immediately took a long swig from his beer. Where had _that_ come from? I didn’t matter, because Chris was laughing again.

“Hahaha, RIGHT?”

God, that laugh, like scattered sunbeams and high school smoking sessions and family reunions. It made Sebastian crazy, reckless.

Impulsive.

“Oh wait, I gotta show you something hilarious,” he said.

“Yeah?” Chris was beaming at him. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “This thing my buddy in New York sent me…”

He picked up his phone, pulled up The Picture and looked at it for a second, taking in the familiar sketch of Steve’s naked ass, and Bucky, below him, clearly mid-orgasm.

Shit. What the fuck was he thinking?

His stomach pitched and he stopped breathing. The Picture was so familiar to him that he’d forgotten how it might look to someone who’d never seen it. There wasn’t exactly room for interpretation. And the figures depicted were so clearly based on him and Chris… this amounted to the most aggressive flirting that Sebastian had ever done. Chris was going to freak out.

How could he put his phone away without looking weird? He panicked silently, biting his lip.

“Lemme see that.” Chris reached out and snatched the phone with a cheeky smirk.

“Wait…”

Too late. Chris was in possession. He caught Sebastian’s eye with a shit-eating grin, before glancing down at the screen. Sebastian watched with bated breath, ready to apologise, or run away, or disappear forever.

Chris did an honest-to-God double take, and his eyes went almost comically wide.

“Wow, that’s uh…”

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. The lights in the bar were pretty dim, and his face was lit up blue.  
Sebastian was mortified. He laughed, nervously.  
“Wild, right?” 

His mouth was dry. He had a sudden urge to drink a lot more.

Chris stared a little longer, then handed the phone back. “God. Yeah. That’s, uh… Whew! You gotta send me that. So funny. Mackie’ll shit his pants.”

He finally stopped talking and leaned back on the couch again, but Sebastian was sure he was twitchier than before. He didn’t seem angry, or shocked. Could it be that he liked what he saw?

The idea that Chris appreciated The Picture as much as he did was almost too exciting to contemplate. His pulse quickened but he said nothing, hoping that Chris would keep talking.

“I mean, God! That would be so _hot_ , right? After everything they’ve been through?”

Chris was looking at him in a way that was somehow both playful and intense. 

“Well, _yeah_ …” Sebastian answered, making his face say ‘obviously’ so that Chris wouldn’t clock that his hands had started to shake.

“So when do you think they, uh…”

Chris chewed slowly on a potato chip, still looking at Sebastian. He actually hadn’t thought about this nearly as much lately as he’d though about Chris, but he had a few… scenarios. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I mean, assuming they’re not together already…”

“… because it’s taken them so many fucking years of adverse circumstances to figure it out?”

Chris was smiling, leaning forward. Sebastian became intensely aware of his own breathing patterns.

“Right, right…” he went on, “So they don’t really get to be alone until they get to Wakanda, so…”

“Wakanda, huh?” Chris’s lip curled. 

Sebastian nodded, inwardly screaming. Things were spinning way out of his control.

“So maybe this is, like, the next movie…?” Chris pointed to Sebastian’s phone.

The fucking bastard was teasing him on purpose. Well, he was going to get exactly what he was asking for.

“No, no,” Sebastian said. He forced himself to sound confident, and looked Chris straight in the eye. “It’s _this_ movie.”

Shit. Chris was smouldering now. Sebastian felt himself starting to harden.

 

“But Bucky has his arm in the picture.”

That _asshole_. Seriously. It was time for Sebastian to go all-in.

“Shut up, Chris. It’s _this_ movie, OK? Why you trynna make ‘em wait?”

Chris’s eyes went wide, his eyebrows leapt. He tilted his head, questioningly, and Sebastian jerked his, in wordless acquiescence. _Oh my GOD_ , looped his brain. _This is HAPPENING_.

Chris glanced around the room and cleared his throat.

“Hey, man, it’s a while since we’ve run lines together, huh? You, uh, wanna….?”

He nodded towards the exit.

Running lines. The only reason they’d ever done that one-on-one was to get in character and improvise. Flesh out the characters, riff on the relationship. See where it would go. Was he actually suggesting…

Holy _fuck_.

“YES!” he squeaked, with embarrassing haste. “I mean, yeah! OK. Sure.”

Chris leapt to his feet with conspicuous eagerness, and motioned for Sebastian to follow him. Sebastian stood, too, suddenly self-conscious, and hissed in his ear.

“Wait! People will see us!”

“Hey, don’t worry, no-one’s looking at us,” Chris grinned, throwing him a wink. 

Sebastian’s heart nearly burst out of his chest. _Fuck it. Fuck everything_.

He scrambled after Chris towards the door, and twenty pairs of eyes followed them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	9. Chapter 9

Chris tore his mouth away from Sebastian’s and left him reeling, with a heaving chest and a hammering heart. 

“You sure about this?” he asked, face clouded with concern.

“Because you said… you didn’t…”

Ugh, he must be talking about that awful conversation in the hotel lobby in Berlin. Sebastian didn’t have time for this. Chris’s hands were anchored at his waist, fingers squeezing at his hips, and he wanted that tongue back in his mouth.

“No, no,” he interrupted, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “I mean… yeah! I wanna…” 

He grinned and moved closer, bringing his face right up to Chris’s. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m not gonna wait for you to call me after or nothin’.”

Chris glanced down at the ground, then gave him a rueful smile. Shit, had he messed up already? 

“Anyway, we gotta… work on the characters… right?” Sebastian tried.

Blue eyes glinted back at him. “Cos we’re _professionals_ , huh?”

Their faces hovered closer. Sebastian grinned, masking his jangling nerves.

“Alright then,” Chris said, his lip curling, “… _Bucky?_ ”

A thrill whipped down Sebastian’s backbone. He got the message, alright: This was play-acting. Steve and Bucky. It wasn’t… _real_.

Not that it mattered. At this point, he was ready to play any game Chis wanted so long as it got him laid. That, after all, had been his goal all along, hadn’t it? He almost couldn’t believe he was getting one more shot at this, and it would probably be the only one he’d ever get. He had to make it count. 

Besides, Sebastian was absolutely terrified. Bucky Barnes, on the other hand, was suave as fuck. With him in the room, anything was possible.

“Yeah, _punk_ ,” he answered, with Bucky’s lopsided smile. Chris, that _asshole_ , set his jaw and gazed off to the side, all pensive and fraught like Captain fucking America. Suddenly Sebastian wanted to laugh.

Then Chris’s mouth was on his again. 

Sebastian realised that the soaring feeling he’d felt in the bathroom hallway at Berghain had nothing to do with the mind-altering properties of good tequila, but everything to do with Chris. Or the two of them, or something. He was as clear-headed as he could ever be around this guy, but booze had nothing on the intoxication of kissing him. Of being kissed, crowded against a wall, like before, with Chris’s sheer strength making his knees wobble.

With his fingers sliding through Chris’s hair, he tried to imagine what Bucky Barnes would be like in bed. A once-cocky, confident womaniser, who had suffered a lifetime of torture, and violence, and forgotten everything, before finding his way back to the friend he’d always pined for. 

The pining was something he could relate to. Imagine being so fascinated with someone that you keep a secret picture of them hidden away, where you can look at it by yourself. Being so connected to them that they can just turn up and break through all the bullshit in your brain.

Imagine you’ve been brainwashed to be aggressive and silent, against your better nature.

Maybe Bucky wouldn’t be so easily seduced. Maybe he would push back. 

His hands gripped Steve’s face and he kissed back hard, scraping Bucky’s scruff over the soft, clean-shaven skin around his lips. Spurred on by Chris’s sound of surprise, he shoved forward, taking control, propelling them towards the turned-down bed.

Chris made a sound between a chuckle and a moan and let himself fall backwards, pulling Sebastian down on top of him and clutching enthusiastically at his ass. There it was again – the frisson of excitement at being led, not leading. What the fuck was he supposed to be doing, again?

Bucky wouldn’t yield, wouldn’t let his nerves show, but the poor guy probably wanted to be touched just as badly as Sebastian did right now.

Aiming to wrest back some control, he sat back on his knees, right on Chris’s lap. Not a smart strategy, as it turned out, because Chris was rock hard, _right_ underneath him, and Sebastian was blindsided by a fresh wave of arousal.

Huh. He was even weaker than he thought.

Chris wasn’t really moving, though; just holding Sebastian’s hips and rocking against him a little. Watching him with a lustful gaze that made Sebastian feel so _sexy_ , like he could be predator and prey all at once. It made his spine shiver. 

If Chris wasn’t going to fight back, what next? 

_What’re you gonna do now, ‘BUCKY’?_

His brain grappled to reconcile performance with desire, and blew a fuse. Completely at a loss, he clutched at his own shirt – the black, sheer, ‘lucky’ shirt – and yanked it over his head, throwing it aggressively to the floor. Then he drew himself up and glared down at Chris with all the Winter Soldier menace he could muster. A challenge.

 _Come on, then_.

Sebastian held his breath, wound tight. Chris’s eyes roamed over his bare torso, making him self-conscious.

Then suddenly, without warning, Chris dug his fingers hard into Sebastian’s hips and sat upright, so he was only inches away. Sebastian gasped, but before he could move… gentle fingertips ran softly up his sides. 

He groaned.

What else was he supposed to do, then, with Chris’s hot breath on his chest and Chris’s gentle touch on his ribcage, his shoulders, his neck? What the fuck would Bucky Barnes do in the face of such an attack? He grabbed at one of Chris’s wrists, holding it still in the air, but Chris countered with a soft, soft kiss to his throat that made his heart skip. A scrape of teeth across his collar bone, that made him suck in a breath. A firm tongue to his nipple, that made him want to collapse to the bed.

With the last bit of fight left in him, Sebastian slumped forward and grabbed the hem at the back of Chris’s shirt, yanking it up and over his head. Chris’s hands ran around the small of his back, pulling them flush together, skin on warm skin. It made Sebastian sigh in a manner most unlike a finely-honed super-assassin.

Fuck it, didn’t Bucky deserve a fucking break?

“Thought you were a ladies’ man, Buck,” Chris murmured. Without even appearing to try, he lifted Sebastian and rolled him down onto his back. Sebastian went easily, elated to stop fighting for the upper hand.

“Yeah, well, you kinda… took me by surprise,” he replied. It was so unbelievably _hot_ ; the way Chris could manoeuvre him like this. He was so hard that the stiff fabric of his jeans was chafing painfully.

“Didn’t think you wanted me,” Chris was saying in his ear, between kisses to his neck. “Never thought you’d look twice. I’d have noticed.”

“Yeah?”

“I had my eye on you.”

“Did you like what you saw?” Sebastian asked, with a delirious smile.

Chris raised his head and looked him in the eye, even as he fumbled with Sebastian’s belt buckle. His eyebrows pinched in disbelief.

“Are you serious? You’re _beautiful_.”

Sebastian huffed an embarrassed laugh, but Chris’s face was earnest.

“You’re my _friend_.” 

Wow. Those words made Sebastian’s breath catch, quite unexpectedly.

“Like, it’s like I’ve always known you. You know?” 

Sebastian smiled, a little shaky, because he felt exactly the same.

“God, I wanted you, Buck…”

He yanked open Sebastian’s pants with thrilling ferocity and rolled them over again so that Sebastian was on top. Chris’s legs fell open, and he slid both hands down the back of Sebastian’s loose, undone jeans, kneading his ass like he owned it. 

Sebastian felt like putty. He was helpless now not to kiss him, unable to stop his hips from grinding down, while Chris groped him like they were in high school. It made him feel kinda slutty, which was apparently hot as _fuck_. Chris’s fingers felt so strong, so possessive… massaging away, creeping slowly towards his cleft… brushing against his... 

A loud, spontaneous moan escaped him.

“Is this OK?” Chris asked, and Sebastian nodded, vigorously. The truth was, he didn’t really want to be asked. He wanted Chris to carry on, and on, and on, until he delivered on the words he’d spoken last time they were together. If he was honest, Sebastian had given himself over to this, completely, the moment Chris ravished his mouth in the hotel elevator.

Somehow, he remembered himself.

“Uh, s’been a while, Stevie. I mean, I haven’t…”

Chris cut him off.

“But you want to?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yes.”

“Alright, lemme me take care of you, buddy,” Chris murmured.

Sebastian had never heard such a seductive sentence. He relaxed a little, sinking down on top of him, moaning his assent into Chris’s mouth. How could he tell Chris he could do anything he wanted? An insistent finger was pressing against him, dry and thick, and he curled his spine to meet it, letting his hips declare his interest. Hot breath tickled his ear.

“I wanna get my mouth on you.”

The finger dipped as he spoke, making Sebastian yelp. It took him a second to grasp what Chris was suggesting, and another to realise that this was his way of asking for permission.

“Wow, you…uh, learned a few tricks, Stevie?”

He meant to sound teasing, but it came out breathless. _There_? He hadn’t even _thought_ about… how would that even…?

“Uh… y’know… internet,” smirked Chris.

Sebastian gave a nod and a trepidatious smile. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea, but the iron-backboned survivor Bucky Barnes would not shy away from something Steve wanted, however weird it seemed.

Chris rolled him onto his stomach and mouthed his way down Sebastian’s back. He was tense, hypersensitive, self-conscious. Thank God for Dan’s practical advice. 

And then Chris’s tongue slid down over his tailbone, then dipped even lower, so soft it turned Sebastian’s gasp into a sigh. Light dabs soon merged into gentle circles, then into slow, hungry licks, strong enough to get Sebastian’s hips rocking slightly with the rhythm. It felt intimate – startlingly so, but – not… unpleasant, and he wasn’t sure why Chris would want this but he was making happy sounds, and that tongue was warm, and wet, and relentless, and actually, it was kind of hot…

His joints began to loosen and his legs seemed to be spreading themselves, wider, wider, and oh… OH, it was nice… who knew this would be so _nice_ , like being doted on… FUCK, it was so NICE, it was turning him on like he couldn’t believe, building pleasure with every lick, and was it cool to push back against Chris’s face? Because he wanted to, wanted to get _more_ , it was so freaking _hot_ , he was melting like butter, and woah, when did that tongue slip _inside_ him? _Christ_ …

Five minutes later, Sebastian didn’t give a single fuck who he was or what he was supposed to be doing. He clawed helplessly at the sheets, stupid words falling freely out of his mouth into the pillow, and in that moment he would gladly have surrendered the lead in the new Tarantino movie if it meant that Chris would never stop licking him. His hips rocked up and down, but he could find no real respite between the grind of his swollen cock against the mattress and the crazy sensations in his ass.

Out in the middle-distance somewhere lurked a _monumental_ orgasm, approaching and retreating like a rising tide. Sebastian throbbed with a new, urgent desire. Chris was being so good to him, and he wanted to give back, somehow; to share this feeling, to be opened up, laid bare and consumed. To be the reason Chris got his fucking rocks off.

How the hell was he going to express all that?

“F-fuck!” he gasped. “Chris!”

Chris just hummed, continuing to thrust his tongue deep. Exasperated, Sebastian jerked his hips away, and wrenched his head into the present moment.

Oh. Yeah.

“S – Steve!” he exclaimed, over his shoulder.

Chris pulled back and looked at him enquiringly. His mouth hung open, lips all red, swollen and wet. 

“You OK?” he asked, wiping his wrist across his mouth.

Sebastian slumped forward again. He was spread-eagled on his front, quivering.

“You gotta _touch_ me,” he implored. “C’mon. I want you.”

He couldn’t keep the urgency out of his voice, but he didn’t care. Chris’s finger pressed gently against him and his whole pelvis leaped. He was so much softer there now, he could feel it, and he was aching inside, craving Chris’s touch.

“You want this?” asked Chris, his voice almost a whisper.

“Mmm hmmm,” he managed, and, as if to emphasise the point, gave a shaky thumbs-up with his right hand.

Chris laughed, and somewhere behind him a bottle cap clicked. Sebastian was vibrating with anticipation. He folded his arms and rested his forehead on them, face down.

Slick fingers caressed him a little, then gently pushed into him.

Oh God, he thought, oh God, this is happening. His body overpowered his mind and rose into the touch, while the pillow muffled a drawn-out groan. Initially the thrill of it was more psychological than physical: the notion that he could do this, that it didn’t _hurt_ , that anything was possible now.

Chris went slow, inching deeper, and soon the strangeness and discomfort fell by the wayside because this was so, so right, and… good? Oh! Thank God, it was _goo_ – 

“SHIT! Wha…”

His whole body tensed up at a sudden burst of pleasure. Holy fucking shit, so _that’s_ what this was all about, this… FUCK! There it was again, that brief explosion of joy, like a ray of sunshine breaking through clouds, then disappearing just as fast.

He shoved violently backwards towards Chris’s hand, and made himself curse again.

“You like that?” Chris asked, with a smirk in his voice. His finger returned to that magic spot and stroked at it. Leisurely, as if unaware of the effect he was having. 

Sebastian might have punched him if he wasn’t so utterly enthralled. It was _insane_ , like he was being jerked off from the inside somehow. He was wide open, totally at Chris’s mercy, and he just wanted _more_ , more of Chris inside him, nudging at that spot…

Shit, he almost came just thinking about what might be next.

“Yeah… yeah,” he whimpered. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, needing reassurance. The covers were sticking to him where he’d started to sweat, but Chris wasn’t close enough; he wanted that body all over him, wrapped around him, pinning him down… pushing inside him. What was he supposed to do now? Roll over and _beg_?

He rolled over.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon,” he babbled, reaching for Chris with all four limbs. Chris hurriedly repositioned himself then leaned down so he could kiss him, and push his fingers back inside.

It was electrifying. Maddening.

“Jesus! Get your fuckin’ pants off!” Sebastian hissed.

“Hey, watch your mouth, _Sergeant_. Gotta use plenty of this stuff, OK?” 

Chris sniggered as Sebastian rolled his eyes. He returned his lips to Sebastian’s neck and sucked at this throat until he was satisfied with his handiwork, then shimmied out of his pants and reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom. 

“You ready?” he asked, once again bringing out the earnest Cap face, but Sebastian didn’t laugh this time because he could hardly breathe. 

“Yes… please,” he whispered.

The view he from where he lay was ridiculous. Chris was kneeling up on sturdy, spreading thighs, just nonchalantly rolling on a condom in the dim hotel lamplight. How could he be so relaxed? Sebastian was _shaking_. He had never seen him so completely naked before, and he couldn’t help but stare. Those gym-carved outlines were deliberately taunting him. That inviting, tactile skin. That frankly intimidating hard-on.

And… Christ, now he was slowly coating himself in lube. It was obscene. Sebastian swallowed, half wanting to back out and half desperate to get on with it.

Chris looked up mischievous smirk. Slowly, he crawled forwards, leaning lower and lower like a predatory beast. Sebastian’s stomach flipped.

Fuck. It was happening.

He took a sharp breath and then Chris’s lips were on his again, making his skin burn. Desperate, now, he hoisted his legs around Chris’s narrow waist and bucked his hips, hoping to make his eagerness clear.

And it worked. Chris grabbed a leg with one hand, and used the other to line himself up, and then finally, _finally_ he was nudging against Sebastian’s entrance, slow, but insistent. Sebastian gasped as he felt himself yield around the tip, then expand even more as Chris inched forward in little pushes, increasing the pressure each time.

With every thrust, Sebastian gave more ground, felt himself stretch wider. Helpless groans shuddered in his chest. Chris was watching him anxiously, looking straight at him, but his heart couldn’t take it; he had to close his eyes. Focus on the physical feeling. Breathe. 

It was overwhelming, already, to be doing this at last. But eventually Chris was gonna hit—

“WOAH!” His eyes flew open. “That’s it! That’s it, that’s it, that’s _it!_ ”

“Right there, huh?” panted Chris, and Sebastian whimpered his confirmation. He clutched at Chris as tightly as he could, to keep him there, to make sure he couldn’t stop. 

“Oh, God, oh, _babe_ … b… Buck…”. Chris was only about halfway in, but thrusting hard, now, and it was absolute fucking heaven. By the look on his face, he was just as gone as Sebastian felt. He was never going to leave this bed – why would anyone do anything else with their time?

A current was running through him, and their bodies together formed a circuit, and the power surged every time Chris hit the switch. Sebastian’s dick was hard as a lightning rod, but he didn’t think to touch it – he was hypnotised by the rhythm and the buzz; couldn’t take his eyes off Chris, who was now covered in a sheen of sweat, his face contorted in pleasure.

Dan was right. This was dirty as fuck, and the best thing Sebastian had ever done. Each thrust took him right to the edge, made every one of his hairs stand on end, made him tingle all over. 

“You OK?” Chris panted, without breaking the rhythm for a second. Of all the fucking questions to ask at a time like this.

“Ugh, feels so good,” Sebastian gasped. The power surge was rushing up, fast and relentless. He needed it, needed more. His body tightened, his teeth gritted. “Oooooh God… feels _really fucking_ good….” 

Something powerful was brewing. A feeling that was completely new, but at the same time – 

Familiar.

“Oh, FUCK!” he gasped, eyes going wide in revelation. “Think I’m gonna _come!_ ”

Chris let out a sob, and thrust even faster. Sebastian was teetering, right on the brink, when he heard an urgent growl in his ear:

“OhmyGod, Seb… I wanna go _deep_ …” 

The raw desire in Chris’s voice was what destroyed him.

“YES! YES! FUCK!” he cried out, breaking out in goosebumps as pleasure tore through him. He wanted every bit of Chris he could get, wanted Chris to have anything he asked.

Without hesitation, as if holding back another second would kill him, Chris plunged deep into him. Sebastian cried out, first at the sharp zing of pain, then at the heightened pleasure that followed. 

It was mind-blowing. The hot, damp skin and solid bone of Chris’s hips slamming hard against the flesh of his ass; the exhilarating tug and stretch of it; the motion deep in his gut, somewhere under his spine, making heat rise in his belly and forging a path right through his core. 

And it didn’t stop. It didn’t peak and ebb away, as orgasms usually did: instead, it just intensified and spread. Sebastian was utterly enraptured. Fuelled by Chris’s frantic movement inside him, delicious heat radiated up into his chest and down into his thighs, and made all the muscles of his midsection twitch in ecstasy. 

“FUCK! SEB!” Chris cried out, and Sebastian came even _harder_ , knowing that Chris was coming too; trembling above him, moving relentlessly inside him. He was dimly aware that his own dick was spurting wildly, shooting volleys of come as far as his chin. Every square inch of his skin was alive with pleasure. There was no controlling his body, or his mouth; all he could do was go with it, ride it out, cling on, and on, and let it engulf him, like a raging flood. 

Let it recede again, finally, leaving him luminous.

Catch his breath. Focus his eyes. Loosen his grip. Let his limbs flop.

Nuzzle at the head that was buried in his neck. Silently mourn, as Chris’s dick slipped limply from his body.

Not think. Not yet.

It was quiet, he noticed. Had there been noise, before?

Chris’s warm lips were somewhere on his chest, gentle and reverent. 

Suddenly, a huge swell of emotion rose through him and he had to fight not to burst into tears. Chris looked up, all wrecked and dazed and heavy-lidded and beautiful, murmuring drunkenly, “Oh my—" 

But his face fell when he saw the look on Sebastian’s.

“Sorry,” he croaked. “I couldn’t….”

Sebastian shook his head and forced a smile.

“Was it… what you hoped?” Chris asked, nervously, easing himself down by Sebastian’s side.

Sebastian laughed, misty-eyed and breathless.

“Yeah. Yeah. God. It was great.”

Where were his fucking words? _Great?_ Fantastic, is what it was. Blinding. Seminal.

Chris smiled, sheepishly. He found his discarded shirt on the floor and used it to dab at Sebastian’s torso, giggling as he made his way right up to his neck. The stretchy fabric didn’t do a great job of getting him clean, but the action made Sebastian laugh, and the tenderness of it melted his heart. His cheeks flushed.

Chris rolled away to dispose of the condom, and Sebastian laid flat on his back, waiting for everything to start making sense again. And then Chris was back, nudging against him, warm against Sebastian’s clammy skin. His broad, beautiful smile came into focus and Sebastian stared for a while, before a slow answering grin made its way to his face.

“C’mere,” Chris said, pulling Sebastian toward him by the waist. Sebastian flopped against him, floating. 

“Dunno what took us so long,” Chris murmured into his hair. Sebastian chuckled, happily. He didn’t know, either, when it was obvious they were so made for each other. He tilted his face up in invitation, and received a long, slow, open mouth kiss for his pains. Oh, _God_.

The sappiness he was feeling towards this man was unexpected, but strangely nice. And the way Chris was touching him now, he felt so… loved.

 _Almost three whole movies_ , he nearly said, but Chris spoke up first, smirking.

“I mean, what is it, 70, 80 years?” 

Oh. Yeah. 

The temperature of Sebastian’s blood plummeted at that. He’d forgotten, again. 

_Guy fucked me like he loved me_.

That was what Chris /em>did. He made people feel good. Sebastian couldn’t make the mistake of thinking he was somehow special, tempting though it was.

His face must have fallen along with his guts, because two little creases appeared between Chris’s eyebrows.

“You OK?” he asked.

“Yeah…. Yeah,” Sebastian answered, quickly, blinking away the disappointment that tainted his post-euphoric buzz. He never normally _felt_ this much, all at once. Must be the hormones, or something. Good sex was bound to mess you up a little, maybe. Jesus.

“Hey,” whispered Chris. “I’m a cuddler. You?”

Sebastian nodded and rolled away from him, thankful for the chance to hide his face. Chris ran a palm over his chest and across his stomach, using his arm to anchor them together, chest to back. When Sebastian closed his eyes, he could feel the power and tenderness in the body behind him. They were both trembling, still, a little. 

He curled one of his legs back, over Chris’s calf. Ridiculous, how they fit like this. 

Chris’s lips pressed gently against his shoulder, and he rubbed his nose vigorously, blinking. He’d just got what he’d wanted. He’d wanted it for much longer than he’d ever really admitted, even to himself, and it had been so intensely wonderful he couldn’t dwell on it for too long. It had all worked out, in the end. There was really no reason for him to feel so cold.

He snuggled back against Chris. He was confident, now, that their friendship would be OK, and it felt so good to be held, so safe. Chris’s breath was warm on the back of his neck, Chris’s fingers were stroking hypnotic little patterns on the edge of his stomach. He should probably head back to his room now, but his body was still pulsing, and his ass was nestling back against Chris’s groin, and his skin still felt as though it wanted Chris all over it for a little while longer.

Just a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	10. Chapter 10

Sebastian woke, hot, disorientated and naked. The light though the chink in the curtains was bright: too bright, in fact, for his usual small hours wakeup time. Panic reared its head.

He jolted upright and glanced around anxiously for his clothes, his eyes alighting instead on the lump in the bed beside him. 

Chris.

Wow, what a night. It came to him in flashes. His own body going crazy. Chris’s mouth everywhere. The whole… Steve and Bucky thing.

The party.

Surely everyone had seen them leave, and now they were almost definitely going to be late. All of this was _exceptionally_ unprofessional.

“Fuck. FUCK, Chris! We’re late!”

“Mmmmph?”

Chris turned towards him, his eyes still screwed up tight, and Sebastian’s stomach lurched violently. Images crowded his mind of that same face gone slack with pleasure, those eyes closed in passion. In the bright morning light, he could make out the pinkish glow of beard burn around Chris’s mouth.

He raised his hand slowly to his own lips. Fuck, last night had been _incredible_. 

Mentally scanning his body, he found it glowing, still, with post-coital elation: the lingering effects of being royally fucked by someone who clearly knew the moves.

He shifted where he sat. Ooh, ouch. A sharp, telltale burn. Sore, yeah, but fascinating, like the bruises Chris had left on him the last time. 

Temporary, like the bruises.

He shifted again, and a judder of arousal shot from his pelvis to the back of his neck. His dick leapt. 

Shit. 

“Time is it?” Chris mumbled, stretching out and rubbing an eye. Sebastian’s pulse went haywire. His eyes lingered on Chris’s ridiculous superhero chest, then alighted on his fingers, curled on the pillow. What if he just… quit his job, and slipped right back under those covers, and wrapped himself around Chris like one of his dumb fucking tiny shirts? 

Fuck. Was there a glass of water anywhere?

“Seb?”

Anywhere?

Wait. Chris had asked him a question.

“What? Oh, uhhh, I dunno,” he mumbled.

Chris rolled off the bed and onto his feet, hitting Sebastian with a full rear view. It snapped him out of his daze, alright; he turned away, colour rising in his cheeks. How was he supposed to act now? Affectionate? Blasé? _Normal_?

Fortunately, his pants weren’t far from the bed, so he wriggled into them and found his cellphone, alarm and all, completely dead in his back pocket.

“Shit, six already,” said Chris. He picked up his watch, but apparently not his underwear.

Good. Six am was good. If he skipped his shower, Sebastian could make it to his dressing room only about half an hour late, and hopefully Carlos would be the only one to notice. He pulled his crumpled shirt over his head. 

Chris’s eyes were on him, he was sure of it. He needed to say something before he left, the perfect parting remark – but his mind was blank and his throat dry. He wasn’t even completely sure who he was, or what they were doing here.

 _Don’t be weird_ , he told himself. _For God’s sake, don’t cling_.

“So, um, see you on set?” he blurted, at last, turning and smiling.

Chris was smiling, too, and still fucking naked. Sebastian fought back a whimper.

“I mean I… I gotta get going, right?” he said, as evenly as he could manage, with an unconvincing laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, me too,” Chris replied. He was, at last, pulling on some tight boxers. As Sebastian moved towards the door, he walked around the bed looking like an extremely high-end underwear model. The two of them faced each other awkwardly.

Sebastian took half a step forward and then realised he’d been about to kiss Chris goodbye, which was stupid. He needed to get out of there, before he did or said something calamitous, or got hard again.

Chris shuffled where he stood, and for a moment Sebastian though he might actually be about to shake his hand, but in the end he just touched two fingers to his brow in a salute.

“See you there, man.”

Sebastian nodded again, and turned towards the door.

“Hey,” said Chris, as he opened it. He jumped, glanced behind him.

“So… they sure are into each other, huh?” smiled Chris. God, that smirk was irresistible. Contagious.

“Um, seems like it, yeah,” he replied. As he turned away, he caught Chris’s smile and put it on.

*  
Sebastian rushed back to his room with a hitch in his step and a whirlwind in his mind. He felt oddly triumphant, like the morning after his first time, and a little awestruck too. The game had changed for him, now. So much had happened that he didn’t really want to think about it properly, but it niggled away uncomfortably in the back of his mind, not unlike the ache in his ass. 

He fumbled for his key card and rushed into his room before anyone could catch him. No time to get clean; he’d just have to put on fresh clothes and front it out.

Tugging the lucky shirt off over his head, he was arrested by the smell of sex coming off him. Chris really hadn’t cleaned him up very well. He should feel a little gross, he supposed, but he liked it, too – it made him feel daring, impulsive, adventurous. 

Pulling on clean pants, he dashed to the bathroom and gave his face and armpits and torso a rudimentary scrub. The image in the mirror caught his eye and stared back at him for a second, before giving him a wink. It excited him, how his body was still carrying the after effects of last night; Chris had rearranged his insides and left his body saturated with pleasure. 

Damn. It had been so much more than he’d imagined. 

How long would it be before he could sit down without bracing himself? He gave his experimental clench, and immediately had to clutch the side of the sink, gasping at the ripples of residual arousal. 

Wow. That was unexpected.

Thanking his stars once again that Bucky rocked a low-maintenance look, he rushed down to the lobby to get a cab to the studio. He knew with certainty he couldn’t wait for Chris – even arriving together would probably alert the entire world to his shocking lack of professionalism. They would… they would catch up on set, or something. They were both adults. It was gonna be fine.

*

He crashed through his dressing room door to see Carlos already there, of course. He stood with his arms folded and his back to the mirror, a delighted smirk on his face.

Sebastian straightened his face and met Carlos’s eye, almost daring him to say something. He kept eye contact as he strolled across the room, taking care to disguise his limp, but winced as he sank down into his chair. Carlos giggled.

He eyeballed Carlos in the mirror, expecting a smart remark, but the bright-eyed stylist just smiled to himself, looked down, and got to work. Thank God. Sebastian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He enjoyed having his hair seen to, especially when he was trying not to think.

Carlos worked quickly, and, to his credit, never said a word that didn’t pertain to hair. By the time he was done, Sebastian was feeling almost rueful that he was missing the chance to brag. Then Carlos quickly bent down and smacked a proud kiss to his cheek, before shuffling his trolley out of the door, whistling. 

Sebastian stroked his cheek and smiled. Only after Carlos had gone did he notice the little green and white squeezy tube left behind on the side. He reached over and picked it up.

Aloe gel.

This guy really was the greatest.

*

Dan R: HOW’S UR ASS FEELING 2DAY?

The message was a couple of hours old by the time Sebastian saw it. He thought for a minute, then decided to throw caution to the wind and tap out an honest reply.

Me: Sore but happy (WINK)

Dan R: !!!!!!!!!!!! 

Dan R: Missed call

Dan R: Missed call

Dan R: ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE, ASSHOLE.

There weren’t many breaks in shooting, and Sebastian found he really didn’t want to talk yet, anyway. He was still trying to process everything.

Me: Stop shouting

You have a new voicemail message from Dan R. 

Dan R: I FUCKING MEAN IT, SEBASTIAN

*

It was a challenge, trying to act with a blown mind, but Sebastian’s head had been all over the place for weeks now. At least Bucky didn’t have many lines. They were into the final couple of weeks of shooting, now; mostly green-screen stuff, scenes set in Siberia which involved himself, Chris and Robert.

The buzz stayed with him all day, under his skin. The persistent ache in his ass each time he sat down sent a pleasant shudder through him, like a ghostly reminder of the things he’d felt the night before. Sebastian couldn’t remember ever before having sex so good he could feel it for hours afterwards. Or days, as it later turned out. 

The spring in his step carried him right through the day’s shooting, despite the fuzz in his head. Bucky was quiet and withdrawn, but Sebastian just wanted to grin to himself. He was so adventurous, so daring. So open-minded. Far from getting his crush out of his system, he was more preoccupied than ever, unable to stop thinking about his latest encounter in minute detail.

It was a little deflating, then, to find that Chris didn’t seem to be thinking about it at all.

To be fair, he knew it would be like this. Chris was consistent, as ever, nailing his takes like he’d had a full night’s sleep, nodding and smiling like nothing unusual had happened. Sebastian, for his part, was careful not to be over-familiar. It was sensible to keep his distance, given how Chris was about workplace flings. He had to admit it stung a little, though, to watch him greet Robert with a two-armed hug, receiving an affectionate peck on the cheek in return.

Things were fine. Things were moving forward. Sebastian couldn’t see how he could really ask for things to be different. Maybe it was a little painful, after they’d got so close, to feel that distance stretch between them again, but this wasn’t like the Berlin debacle. This was adults who knew how to be responsible. 

_No strings_ , Chris had said. _I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page_.

Fine! Sure, that was absolutely fine. They were on the same page. You know. Good sex was good sex, you couldn’t blame a guy for thinking about it all the livelong day, for reliving it at night, for… wondering whether it might possibly maybe in the right circumstances happen again. Or not. Maybe.

Bucky would want to do it again. Sebastian was sure of it.

*  
It took a week. A week of professional distance, and internal obsession. The more Sebastian tried to move on, the more he fixated on how good Chris had made him feel. Chris may be a carefree bachelor, but apparently he had a role play kink going on, and a little voice in Sebastian’s head kept pointing out that maybe, possibly, this was something that could be exploited.

He didn’t even decide to cave; it was entirely down to the circumstances. First, the following day’s script came around with a lot of changes. And then, when he was in wardrobe, taking off his costume, he spotted the other arm.

The Winter Soldier had two prop arms. Sebastian preferred the one that looked better on camera, even though it was heavier and more uncomfortable, but there was also a backup version. A lightweight one.

Portable.

He waited until the wardrobe assistants had helped him shed the heavy arm and left him to dump the rest of his costume, then tentatively pulled on the lighter arm. 

He flexed the fingers, and they moved easily. Hmmm. Good prop. 

Without even thinking about what he intended to do next, he grabbed his sweater and pulled it on, over the prop arm. One glance around confirmed that nobody had seen him. Quickly, he turned to leave, struggling as he went to stuff his left hand into his pocket. He was so distracted by it that he bumped head first into the solid chest of his co-star.

“Hey!”

“Chris?”

He stared, as if caught out. So yeah, he _had_ vaguely planned to use the prop to get Chris’s attention, but he really hadn’t thought about how.

“Did you see? They, uh, made a lot of changes to the fight tomorrow,” Chris said, waving his script.

“Yeah. I was gonna…”

“I just wondered if you wanted to go over it later?”

Sebastian’s stomach was in knots. He fidgeted again with his left hand, which wasn’t quite concealed in his pocket. Chris’s eyes tracked downwards and lingered on the glinting prop, his eyes going wide.

“Sebastian, are you _stealing_ that?”

“Ummmm… borrowing?” Sebastian shuffled, awkwardly.

A slow smirk spread over Chris’s face.

“Borrowing it for the read-through?”

Sebastian felt his cheeks glow.

“I mean, it helps me with the character.”

“Sure, sure,” said Chris, obviously amused. “Well, maybe we can try some fight choreography, as well?”

Fuck this guy. Why was Sebastian so weak? He swallowed before answering.

“I’ll come by after dinner?”

“Great,” beamed Chris.

*

He didn’t even bring his script with him.

Sebastian was barely through Chris’s bedroom door when he found himself thrown gracelessly onto the bed. He was so excited he’d barely breathed in the hours since planning this rendez-vouz, and his body was so ready to go it was almost vibrating.

“Back for more, Buck?” Chris grinned.

“Try keeping me away, punk.” 

He was cursing the fake arm already as he fumbled to pull at Chris’s clothes.

Neither of them had much patience this time. Sebastian’s thighs trembled in anticipation as Chris leaned over him and hitched them up. Now that he knew what he was dealing with, how good it was going to be, he could focus properly on the feeling of Chris’s fingers, stroking him gently inside. 

The intimacy of it made him self-conscious. Kissing was good way to avoid Chris’s eyes.

Those fingers had him blossoming. He was completely sober this time, but Chris made him feel like he was coming up on something – just passively allowing pleasure to grow and grow. He’d be able to orgasm from this, he knew, from this attentive touch… but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted that shared feeling, that absolute togetherness, that he’d felt that first night.

By the time Chris was satisfied with his work, Sebastian felt as though he’d been ready his entire life.  
“C’mon, man,” he hissed.

Chris pulled back, smirking.

“You used to be a patient man, Bucky Barnes, I swear.” he said, reaching out for the condom on the night stand.

And there Bucky was; right there in the room, this time, impossible to ignore. Chris was good, but not so good he could make him overlook the stage prop sheathing his entire left arm. The faux-metal fingers weren’t cold, but Chris seemed to like the way they felt, running over his spine.

“Not when there’s something I _want_ ,” he replied, in a low voice. They were New York boys, him and Bucky. Both of them. They talked the same.

Chris glanced down, smiling, to roll on the condom and slick himself up. When he looked up, though, the smile faded into a darker gaze that made Sebastian shiver.

“There’s something you want?” he murmured, crawling back up until their faces were inches apart. Sebastian’s answer was to run his feet up Chris’s thick legs, pulling him closer.

“Yeah,” he whispered, and Chris kissed him again, rough and possessive. Sebastian’s legs fell apart, wide and yielding, and Chris slipped an arm under his thigh, lifting it over his hip so he could guide himself with his hand.

It was feral, the way Sebastian kissed and clutched while Chris nudged against him, then slowly pushed inside. He didn’t stop this time, just inched forward, and soon Sebastian had to pull his mouth away to release a loud and primal moan he couldn’t contain any longer. Chris wasn’t small. Taking him whole was a big deal, to say the least.

It wasn’t… painful, exactly, just incredibly intense. A sense of being stuffed so tightly he might split at the seams. Sebastian’s body reacted on its own, tensing up and fighting back, his breaths coming fast and heavy, his pores prickling with sweat. His ass was trying to clench, but it was stretched so far it couldn’t contract. Not even a little.

Sebastian started to panic and tried to snatch his hips away, but Chris moved with him, murmuring “Hey, it’s OK. You’re OK.” 

_I’m OK_. How was Chris being so calm and reassuring, when it was clear from his face and the tremble of his arms that he was feeling it, too? That he had to be just as turned on as Sebastian was?

He felt helpless, now. Totally overpowered, and not just physically. His dick had never, ever been so hard.

“Relax into it,” Chris was murmuring. “Push, don’t squeeze.” He started circling his hips a little, slow and sexy. Sebastian closed his eyes, caught a deep breath and focused on letting the tension go. As he did so, as he accepted Chris completely, delicious warmth flooded his abdomen. A soft moan broke out of his throat. 

Chris read him like a book and started to move, increasing the strokes little by little, until Sebastian was totally transfixed by the long, deep slide inside him. It wasn’t like last time. Chris wasn’t hitting his prostate, not dead-on, but he didn’t have to. The stretch and pull of Chris’s movements, the thrill of the taboo, the rapture on his face – it all propelled Sebastian into a state of all-encompassing pleasure. A sweet sensation began to flow outwards to his thighs and abdomen, until each thrust had him moaning aloud.

“Oh.. s’good,” he blurted. “Oh GOD, that’s good.”

He began to lift his hips, to meet Chris’s, grind against him a little, and soon they were rocking slowly together, wrapped closely around each other, like the last time. Sebastian was soon feeling it all through his lower body. But when Chris leaned down to kiss him, passionate and tender, that’s when he felt it in this chest. In the knocking of his heart. Filling the space where air should be.

They moved slowly, wanting it to last, but even slow was intoxicating. It _did_ something to Sebastian, to be kissed with undisguised passion and made love to at the same time; dissolved him, right there in Chris’s arms.

But they weren’t going to be able to go slow forever. The want became more urgent, and the pace began to pick up. Sebastian was a quiet lover, usually, but now Bucky’s dirty mouth took over, running off with a stream of words that made Sebastian blush when he half-remembered. “Oh _baby_ ,” and “ _Fuck_ me,” and “Gimme that _dick_!”. Guttural groans and clawing hands. “You feel so fuckin’ _good_ inside me, _fuck_!” 

Chris shuddered over him, spilling whispered curses, hips driving onward.

And it might have been that something changed, almost imperceptibly, somewhere in the midst of everything. A moment where Sebastian gave something up, or Chris took it, for better or for worse. 

He caught sight of his left arm, and his thoughts drifted to Steve and Bucky, as he gazed, unfocused, at the man above him. _Wow, they must really be in love,_ he thought. _After all they’ve been through. They must feel like the only two people in the world when they’re together. Bucky must look up at Steve and just think… wow… he’s so amazing and he’s mine. And he loves to make me feel like this._

“You feeling good, baby?” Steve panted, because he always put others first, and Bucky groaned in reply. He couldn’t find words, so instead he brought one of Steve’s hands to his dick to show him just _how_ good he was feeling. It wasn’t meant as a request, but Steve wrapped a hand around him anyway and started to jerk him, slowly. Muttering in his ear, “Yeah, baby, yeah.”

Steve was all over him, inside him, kissing him, and none of it was happening fast, but he was still about to lose it. 

“ _Steve!_ ” 

He was getting real loud, now, and Steve sped it up, got rougher. His hips jolted, hard and arrhythmical. “Oh, Jesus! Oh, _fuck!_ You’re so…”

“Don’t stop!” Bucky howled, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, _don’t STOP!_ ”

And they didn’t. They kept going, slamming together now like fists to a punchbag, through waves and waves of pleasure. Mouths gaping, eyes closed tight, or sightless. 

Too good. Too much. Too…

Wow.

They kissed through the comedown, this time, still wrapped around each other. Sebastian wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, and forget himself; instead he drifted into Bucky. Let Bucky enjoy the feeling of complete, profound satisfaction.

Eventually they broke apart for Chris to dispose of the condom and grab a hand wipe. Sebastian grinned at the ceiling. He was just so happy for his alter-ego, getting something good at last. Drunk on oxytocin, he laughed with delight when Chris returned and leaned in to kiss him some more. God, he was such a great kisser.

Mmmmm,” he murmured, dreamily, when they came up for air. “You sure like to kiss me, dontcha?”

A teasing lilt bled into his voice, and he felt Chris’s body go taut.

“Huh. Sorry. Is it too… it’s not what you want?”

He sounded mortified. Sebastian cursed himself. Wait, was Chris in character, or not? This whole thing was getting very confusing.

“It is!” he blurted. “I mean, I’m doing the. Bucky… thing,” he tailed off.

“Oh! Yeah. Of course. Bucky.” Chris tried for amusement, but his cheeks were bright red. 

Sebastian wasn’t sure what had happened, but things suddenly felt painfully awkward. As if one of them had somehow caught the other in a terrible, actorly faux pas. The chances of more kissing seemed to have ebbed away completely.

They lay side by side for a minute, neither of them sure where to go from here. They turned to glance at each other at the same moment, then quickly looked away. Had all that nasty stuff really been pouring out of Sebastian’s mouth, minutes earlier? 

He was embarrassed. Maybe Chris was embarrassed. Maybe Chris wanted space. Part of Sebastian wanted to stay, but the tension was getting too much.

Let Chris decide?

He sat up, and Chris did too, relief on his face. His hand hovered briefly in the air, then scratched his head.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, keeping his face and voice neutral. 

That settles _that_ , then.

“Uh, yeah,” Sebastian said. “Can’t be late again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Hey, you good? You have fun?” he asked.

“God, yes,” said Chris, again, sounding soft and distant. He was smiling with his mouth, but not his eyes.

Sebastian pulled his shirt on and then, without thinking, leaned over the bed to kiss Chris goodbye. Taken by surprise, Chris turned his face towards him, and they caught each other by the lips.

This accidental burst of affection made Sebastian’s heart race. They’d spent the whole evening having sex, and yet a little chaste kiss felt seismic. Dangerous, maybe.

Sebastian felt queasy. He had to get out of there.

*

Sebastian’s unease was growing by the hour. What was happening to him? He’d hardly slept after leaving Chris like that, and although his body was still lit with that bone-deep post-coital glow, his mind was jittery. His thoughts ran off down one path before changing direction at random.

He was on a mid-morning call time, for a change, which should have given him time to rest, but instead he sat and stewed. What was this all about, really? One minute his mind told him to stick to the status quo, see what might happen between now and the end of shooting, only days away… but his gut was yelling at him to stop and open his eyes.

He needed to talk to someone, if only to get things off his chest, and as luck would have it, he owed a friend a phone call. 

He fiddled with his phone for a couple of minutes before hitting ‘3’ on speed dial. Five rings later, Dan’s half-baked growl greeted him.

“Sebastian. You ghost on me for days and then you call me at the spa. Why are we friends?”

“Great to catch you too, man.”

“I’m kidding, of course. I mean yeah, I’m at the spa, but I am DYING to hear about your sex life. So hit me. Yeah, you too, Felipe. Sorry, I’m talking to my masseur. Go on.”

Sebastian laughed, a mixture of trepidation and genuine amusement. Dan’s straight talking was sometimes a little mortifying, but more often than not it was just what he needed.

“Well, so I… so we, uh… I think I may have implied that I…”

“Yeah, you indulged in full-on man lovin’, mere weeks after your gay revelation. Geez, you’re easy.”  
Sebastian gasped in outrage.

“Says you, you fuckin’… fuckin’…”

“Babe, we gotta work on your insults if you’re gonna join us. Let’s skip that for now. How WAS it?”

Sebastian sat back in his hotel armchair and stared at the ceiling, reminded for the millionth time of exactly how it was, with Chris. Of those drawn-out, all-consuming orgasms that left him physically and mentally wrecked.

“I gotta be honest.”

“Terrible? Ah, don’t worry about it, man.” Dan sounded touchingly sympathetic.

“God! No!” Sebastian almost laughed. “It was actually, kind of… amazing.”

“What? _Really_?”

Sebastian tingled with an odd sense of pride.

“Totally. Like, oh my _God_. That’s not… normal?”

He heard Dan scoff.

“Not really!” He answered. “Getting the good dick right off the bat? Once again, you are a lucky motherfucker with a blessed life, Sebastian. I’m sorry, my masseur is laughing. Quit fuckin’ listening to my private conversation with my movie star buddy, Felipe. So, what. Do you like this guy?”

Sebastian answered quickly, refusing to consider the question properly.

“Sure I _like_ him. I mean, I fucked him last _night_.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve never been great at one-night stands. Do you _like_ him?”

“Um….”

How did Dan always know how to put him on the spot? Sebastian hadn’t wanted to think about this at _all_. He genuinely meant to sound ambivalent, but on hearing his non-committal hum, Dan made a sound like someone had handed him a day-old kitten.

“Oh, you’re breakin’ my heart, sweetie. Does this mean I get to meet him?”

Sebastian paused, taken by surprise by the notion of Chris meeting his friends. He’d fit right in, of course, Sebastian realised, with a smile. They would _love_ him. But then, there was no reason why it should ever actually happen.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbled.

“Uh huh. Too real for your Hollywood career, huh?

Huh. Sebastian hadn’t even _thought_ about the potentially public side of what he and Chris had been doing. Now that he did, his stomach hardened a little. Another very good reason why Chris probably wanted to keep him at arm’s length.

“Nah man, it’s not like that,” he said, still trying to think it through. “Chris and I, we’re just…we’re…”

“OK, OK,” sighed Dan, cutting him off. “I get it. Well, as long as you don’t get yourself h… wait, did you say _Chris?_ ”

Shit, that had completely slipped out.

“No, no, Dan, definitely not.”

“Seb, are you banging CHRIS. EVANS?”

“Um…”

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Dan put his hand over the receiver, but his voice was barely muffled.

“Shut up Felipe, his name’s not Sebastian anything. He’s called, uh, Mark.” 

Then he was back in Sebastian’s ear. 

“Oh my GOD, this is DISGUSTING. You ASSHOLE. I will NEVER be able to think of ANYTHING else but you two beautiful fucks together. CHRIST. I HATE YOU.”

“You sent me that damn picture, Daniel. It’s your fault.”

“Jesus, I KNEW it. I KNEW that guy was one of us. I can’t… does he have a huge dick? NO! Don’t answer that. GOD, I HATE you so MUCH. How are we gonna hang out ever again after this?”

Sebastian was bent over in silent laughter. Dan’s rants were hilarious, but they were always underscored with affection.

“Aww, it’s nice you’re so happy for me, friend,” he grinned.

“You’re dead to me, Sebasti… Mark.”

“Again? Because you consider me dead, like, once a month,” Sebastian pointed out.

“Shut up. Does he have a huge dick, though?”

“Bye, Dan.”

Sebastian ended the call, sat back, and stared into space, while the laughter retreated and his discomfort was exposed again. That call hadn’t been exactly what he hoped for, but Dan had a way of being helpful by accident.

As long as you don’t get… _hurt_. ‘Hurt,’ is what Dan meant to say. Sebastian sat with that for a little while.

Why might he get hurt? That was the question, wasn’t it? That was the thing he’d been avoiding, the niggle underneath his all-consuming crush. 

Chris was very interested in the physical, but not in any kind of emotional arrangement. He’d pretty much said so, and nothing since had given Sebastian reason to doubt this. Not really. Projection, wishful thinking… none of that would change anything.

Was that a problem, Sebastian?

Wait… _Wishful thinking…?_

Huh.

He stood up, unwilling to let his train of thought reach its final destination. He didn’t want to spell anything out to himself, but he had to at least admit that he was heading for disaster, and there was only one solution.

He had to put a stop to this. That would be the best thing for everyone. Yeah.

It wasn’t gonna be easy, though.

Sebastian was about to leave for the set when he heard his phone buzz on the side. He picked up.

“Um, so is this thing, like, a big secret?” Dan asked, a little sheepish.

“So far, I guess. I mean, my hair stylist knows about it. He kinda helped us along.”

“What the FUCK? You have a new gay best friend? That’s it, _Mark_ , it’s over. For real. I’m gonna hang up on YOU this time.”

Sebastian laughed, although he felt oddly closer to tears.

“Wait …” Dan’s voice wavered. “Is he cute though?”

His laughter trailing off, Sebastian hit ‘End’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	11. Chapter 11

But you can’t put a stop to something that’s not even happening.

With only a week of filming left to go, there hadn’t been any more unprofessional conduct. Good, Sebastian told himself. _This is good, I’m gonna be fine._

Yeah, of course his mind kept wandering back to the nights they’d spent together. That was to be expected. Sure, his pulse still quickened when he first saw Chris in the mornings. And again when they spoke, or touched. But he could handle it. As long as Chris saw him as a friend, and not a potential restraining order, everything was cool.

Maybe this thing was out of their systems now. Sebastian wasn’t sure how he’d know if it was.

Things had been very slightly frosty on set after their encounter, but the ice had broken pretty quickly during a break in shooting the next day.

“I can’t believe this is nearly over,” Chris had said. They were sitting by the side of the set, waiting to be called on to stalk back-to-back through a bright green studio before bumping into Iron Man.

Sebastian shot him a sideways smile.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered. “It’s sure been a hell of a ride.” 

They sat for a second with the words hanging in the air between them. Then Sebastian turned, wide-eyed in horror, ready to backtrack, to find Chris twinkling at him in amusement. Chris had let out a snort, and Sebastian had started giggling, and soon they’d both been in hysterics. Just like that, things were normal again. Friendly, even.

They’d been interrupted by a fresh-faced, breathless runner, who sidled up to ask if he could get them coffee.

Chris jerked a thumb towards Sebastian. “Iced, if you can get it,” he said, still shaking his head and chuckling. “Skinny latte,” pointing at himself. “Thanks a lot, Jesse.”

“No problem.” Jesse gave a shy smile and scurried off to find the drinks.

“God, I really can’t wait to eat and drink like a real person,” Chris said, stretching out his arms and legs as far as he could in his flimsy director’s chair.

Sebastian nodded. “I hear that. Pizza. One more week, man.”

“Six days. French fries,” Chris replied. “Curry. With rice AND naan bread.”

“Oh my God, yes,” groaned Sebastian. “Peanut butter! Chocolate cake!”

“Ice cream. Brigham’s! _Fuuuuck_.”

“Brigham’s?” Sebastian asked.

“It’s big in New England, man. I’ll get you some. It’s the best shit in the WORLD.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Sebastian still stiffened slightly in the presence of Robert Downey Jr, especially when he appeared out of nowhere, but he always felt more confident when Chris was there.

“ _Foooood_ ,” they chorused. 

“Jesus,” said Robert. “It’s like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

“We HAVEN’T” Chris groaned, stretching again with his hands behind his head.

Robert stared for a moment, then rolled his eyes. “Oh, man, I _feel_ ya,” he groaned. “Can’t WAIT for my filet mignon meatballs.”

Chris and Sebastian exchanged a knowing look. Before they could answer, though, a speed-walking figure appeared carrying two paper cups.

“Oh my God, thanks Jesse,” they said, in unison, then side-eyed each other.

Robert glanced at them suspiciously.

“Quit…. Ganging up, you guys,” he said.

Chris curled a protective hand around his steaming paper cup.

“I don’t share,” he said, deadpan.

“Gosh, sorry Mr Downey, you weren’t here when I…”

“S’fine, Jesse,” Robert waved his hand, still eyeballing Chris. “I don’t drink movie set coffee.” 

He turned his cheek in theatrical disdain.

Sebastian sniggered.

“Five minutes, guys,” called the assistant director.

The scenes went off without a hitch, after that, with Steve and Bucky moving seamlessly together through the imaginary underground bunker. They spun around in perfect defensive formation, and climbed a flight of stairs in battle-ready sync, like it was World War Two again. A double-act.

 _They make a great team_ , Sebastian kept thinking.

*

It was nice, really, that the last week of filming involved so many two-handed scenes between Steve and Bucky. Sebastian really loved working on them, each bouncing off the other’s performance. Bucky was a big part of him now. 

Today, they were sitting in a Quinjet together, heading to Siberia. Bucky had only a few lines in which to convey his guilt, regret, gratitude, his _exhaustion_ … while Steve piloted them from a seat in front, his back to his best friend. It was going to take all of Sebastian’s energy to get this scene right, especially when he had to deal with the images Chris put into his head by both existing and wearing his Cap suit at the same time. 

At least they were due to have a rare and much needed break the following day. Sebastian was going to stay in bed by himself for all of it.

*

It turned out to be more intense than Sebastian expected, the conversation in the jet: he got pretty deep into remembering the crimes Bucky had committed, and marvelling at Steve’s loyalty. By the end of the day, he was as exhausted as he’d ever been.

Sebastian trudged off to get out of costume and retreat to his room for the next 36 hours.  
But of course, fate wasn’t going to let him rest just yet.

“Hey, good job, man!”

Chris was right behind him, pulling at the panels of his Cap suit like he was literally about to take the damn thing off in front of Sebastian’s face. Wardrobe assistants appeared and started unzipping him, relieving him of his top in seconds. Sebastian felt his face go hot.

“I got one for ya,” Chris said, good-naturedly. “D’you think Steve always drives?”

Sebastian was puzzled, and more than a little nervous. It was common for them to speculate about their characters, but these days he wasn’t sure they should do it in _front_ of people. I seemed oddly indecent, after what they’d been up to.

“You mean, like, the Quinjet?” he said.

Chris just shrugged and smiled. What was he getting at? Sebastian decided to take him at face value.  
“Uh, I feel like Bucky could drive? I mean, he can fly a helicopter, so…”

Chris was gazing at him, smirking, while two wardrobe assistants relieved him of the top part of his costume. If this guy wasn’t going to get to do a shirtless scene in the film, he was obviously going to make damn sure he was as naked as possible off camera. Fucking… _Jesus_.

“So you’re saying you think they switch it up?” he asked, casually rotating a shoulder and dropping his Cap pants.

“I mean, I guess, yeah.” Then, “OH.”

He froze, flushed with realisation. Surely Chris did _not_ just proposition him, in front of… because he’d already decided, he wasn’t going to….

“Yeah, I think so too,” Chris said. Then the son of a bitch drove the point home with a fucking wink.

Sebastian gaped at him.

“Oh, thanks Nicole,” Chris said to the wardrobe assistant. She handed him his sweat pants and shirt without comment, and he strutted off almost naked to get washed and changed in some less sociable corner of the wardrobe department.

Sebastian gaped after him.

*

 _That fucker_ , Sebastian thought to himself. _He didn’t even wait for me to turn him down_.

What was he supposed to do with this? How was he supposed to get an early night, now that Chris had metaphorically put his compact but beautifully curved ass on the table? How could he not imagine Bucky taking a turn on top, now that it had been offered?

He lay back on his fluffy hotel pillows and fidgeted. The costume arm lay on the desk, taunting him.

Just because Bucky would want to go for it, it didn’t mean he was going to. Just because the thought of smart, cool-headed Steve Rogers letting himself lose control was among the hottest things he could think of, didn’t mean Chris would be the type to really let go.

Maybe he’d be bossy and demanding. Maybe he’d let Sebastian take him over. Shit. He started to imagine having Chris under him, begging him for more.

His breathing slowed. Hot desire started to unfurl somewhere very deep down in his gut.

No! Stop it! This whole situation was unacceptable. Infuriating. Chris didn’t even know how far off the mark he was with his little stunt. Sebastian was done with these awkward hook-ups. He had decided. He had sensible and grown-up reasons. God dammit, he needed to protect himself. And Chris – that smug, sexy JERK – didn’t even know about it yet.

Not showing was too much of a dick move, though. He was going to have to go up there and tell him to his face.

Just as soon as his hard-on subsided.

*

 **Ten minutes later**  
“C’mon, more!” Chris moaned. He was already naked and lying on his back, while a slack-jawed Sebastian worked a third trembling finger inside him. 

What the fuck was he doing? How had this happened so fast?

To have Chris under him for once, arching up and moaning at his touch without inhibition, was both unbelievably hot and a little daunting. He may have known the moves by now, but Sebastian was far from confident in executing them. 

Then Chris’s tone turned sharp. “Oh, FUCK!”

He sat up. Sebastian sat back in alarm, holding his lube-covered hands in the air like a surrender.

“What? What is it? Shit, did I fuck it up?”

“No! God, no. It’s just, I think I’m out of—” Chris was rummaging in the drawer next to his bed. “Shit. I was gonna go to the—” 

Sebastian stared, incredulous. His was breath coming fast. “I mean, there’s gotta be a machine or something? Maybe downstairs?”

“Yeah?” said Chris. “You wanna borrow my robe and go ask at reception?”

Sebastian glanced down himself, naked and visibly aroused, then back to Chris. They stared for a moment, before bursting into belly-shaking laughter at the mental image. Sebastian, already a mess of nerves and conflicting emotions, was almost hysterical over it.

Chris calmed down first.

“I mean, maybe…” he said, offhandedly, darting his eyes about the room. “I really don’t mind if…”  
_If what?_ raced Sebastian’s thoughts. _If we stop? That doesn’t sound so great._

“Cos, y’ know. I’m not, like, sleeping with anyone else. Right now, I mean.” Chris said, hastily.

Well. That was unexpectedly heart-warming to hear. 

“No! No, me either,” Sebastian blurted back, too quickly. “I mean, who has the time, right?”

He giggled again, nervous. Then his mind caught up.

“Oh! You mean—” 

Chris raised an eyebrow, looking him dead in the eye.

“We don’t have to. We can… I just… I’m saying, if you want to, I want to.” 

Sebastian blinked, eyebrows arching high above his wide eyes. He was confident he was clean, and Chris… well. How could he not take Chris’s word for anything?

“Yeah, I want to,” he said, quietly.

Chris responded with that sunshine smile that always warmed Sebastian up. “Great!” he said. “So… where were we?”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and made to push Chris back down onto the bed, but then something made him pause. 

That conversation had been totally out of character. 

Which was to say, they’d totally forgotten what they were supposed to be doing. Chris’s stupid kink. The acting thing. Had Chris even noticed?

“What is it? You OK?”

Sebastian swallowed. Should he answer as Bucky, or…?

A little voice in his head that chose this moment to remind him he hadn’t even come here to do this. _Just one more,_ he retorted, inwardly. _Just this once. Then we’ll stop._

“I, uh… forgot the arm,” he said.

Chris’s eyes went a little wider at that.

“Oh, sure. S’OK. I don’t need props. I just need you to get me in the zone… _Bucky_.”

His smug expression stirred something in Sebastian and he surged forward, manhandling one of Chris’s thighs so he could get back to work with his fingers.

“This work for ya, _Steve?_ ” he teased, inwardly thrilling at the sight of Chris’s eyes rolling back in his head. The smugness was gone from his face in an instant.

“Yep, that’ll do it,” Chris grunted, then “AAH fuckyes,” as Sebastian got even cockier and curled his fingers upwards. Chris’s voice quickly morphed into growl. 

“I _want_ you, Buck.”

They’d got to this point so fast and unexpectedly that Sebastian hadn’t had the chance to really think about what would happen next, and now he hesitated. 

“So how do I… what do you wanna do?”

Chris looked up at him for a moment, breathing rapidly. His pupils were already blown wide, and his brow shone with sweat.

“Can I try something?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Sebastian.

“OK. Lie down. I’m gonna get on top.”

A cold prickle of excitement spread over Sebastian’s skin. _Perfect_. Fuck. 

“OK, yeah.”

They turned awkwardly together until Sebastian was flat on his back, lightheaded with relief. Just like that, the pressure was off. 

But then Chris was over him again, straddling him, bracketing his hips with strong legs, bending down to kiss him, and that, THAT was when Sebastian’s brain went offline. That was when the nerves melted away.

Chris’s mouth was there, then it was gone, then it was back, while a large, warm hand took hold of them both, jerking slick and slow, and Sebastian was rolling with it, loving it, just about holding himself off the boil. And then he was sliding between Chris’s legs, up into the cleft of his ass, and it was a long time since he’d gone bareback with anyone, and he was in serious danger of losing it too soon, but he wanted it so _bad_ , it felt like he was burning up for it, and…

And then Chris had him in hand again, was checking to see if he was ready, and Sebastian just nodded and said “Yeah,” instead of “OH HOLY FUCK ARE YOU KIDDING ME DO IT NOW,” so Chris said “OK, just stay still.” And then Chris was bearing down, taking him inch by inch, and Sebastian’s eyes kept flicking from Chris’s face to his own dick, watching it disappear, unable to choose which sight was hotter, but desperate to remember them both. 

“OhGod,” he said, out loud. 

A sound broke free from Chris’s chest like Sebastian hadn’t ever heard before, or maybe he’d been too gone to notice. The heat was all around him now, holding him so _tight_ , and thank God, Chris was in no rush to move, because Sebastian _really_ needed a minute.

Chris swayed a little, trying to settle, one hand pressing hard on Sebastian’s chest to balance himself. Leaving a lubey handprint. Sebastian’s hands ran along the meat of his thighs and his fingers spread wide to grip his broad, masculine hips. It seemed like he was steadying Chris in his lap, but really he was trying to anchor _himself_ , trying to stay in control as his body started to roar.

“Woah, _Steve…_ ”

It wasn’t just the realisation that he was _inside_ Chris, now; it was also that he knew what it was like for him. Sebastian _knew_ why Chris’s face flickered between hedonistic pleasure and a twinge of discomfort. He knew exactly what Chris was feeling, when he released a long, shuddering breath and began to roll his hips slowly. 

Despite the conversation back in wardrobe, Sebastian didn’t feel much like he was driving. All he had to do was let his body move, and stare. And the view was pretty spectacular.

Chris towered above him, tousle-haired and statuesque. He moved sinuously, which wasn’t surprising, given his grace and athleticism on set. Muscles rippled under his skin. God, his face was so _beautiful_. His fucking _dick_ was _right there_ , hovering above Sebastian’s belly button.

Was it rude to stare at it? How could he not? Chris wouldn’t notice. He was starting to move a little faster, starting to give in to it. Sebastian recognised the sheen of sweat coming over him; his own body reacted the same way when Chris entered him, when it couldn’t separate wrong from right. Chris was getting louder, now, and Sebastian recognised that, too; the uncontrollable urge to curse out loud, to try and make garbled sense of the feeling.

Overwhelmed as he was, Sebastian still felt sharper, more focused than before, when they’d gone the other way round. It was such a thrill to see Chris reduced to a drooling, incoherent mess this time, to be the one to put him in that state. His own legs were trembling already as the all-consuming urge to come flared in his abdomen.

But Chris wasn’t moving fast enough, and the frustration made him bold.

He lifted his head off the bed, still clumsily thrusting away.

“Hey, can we—”

“Huh? Oh! Fuck yes!”

Chris scrambled quickly onto his back and Sebastian moved fast, too, either from newfound confidence or desperate need. He clambered between Chris’s legs and – thanking God, Jesus and his gym trainers – hauled those long, sturdy legs over his shoulders. Within seconds he was plunging back in, watching Chris close his eyes, hearing Chris moan. 

For a couple of seconds he panicked about his technique, but Chris was hot and slick against his bare skin, and once he really got moving, there was nothing he could do about it, anyway. Wild horses couldn’t stop him. He stared down at Chris, followed the line of his arm, and… God _damn_ , he was jerking off. Moaning loudly with every thrust. Shit! 

“Bucky! Buck!”

He snapped his gaze up. Chris was panting. His eyes were hooded, his lips swollen and parted. Then, for a brief moment, time stopped. And Chris murmured.

“Are you gonna come in me?”

…. Fuck.

Sebastian snapped out of slow motion and straight into a boneshaker of an orgasm, pouring himself freely into Chris’s body. It was so stunning he forgot briefly how to form words, which was a blessing, since his head was a mess of gratitude and gospel music. He almost got a full-on second wave when he saw that Chris was coming, too, clutching at him with his free hand.

*

When Sebastian raised his head, he realised he was laughing. An insane mixture of relief and pride, hormones and happiness. Chris looked dazed, but he laughed a little, too. His eyes looked touchingly fond.

They kissed.

*

“So I’m gonna take a shower real quick,” Chris said, indicating vaguely at his sticky body. 

Sebastian nodded, taking that at his cue. He sat up on the side of the bed, a little wobbly, and yawned.

“You don’t gotta leave, though, man,” Chris added, gripping him gently by the wrist.

“Oh! OK, sure. Um. Thanks,” he replied, instantly lying back down. Chris headed to the bathroom.

 _This is the opposite of putting a stop to things_ , the alarm in his head told him, as he stretched out in Chris’s bed. _The EXACT opposite. You think this will make things easier? The very least you can do now is get out of here._

But his body didn’t want to. It wanted to hunker down in the musky, sweaty sheets they’d already warmed together, and wait for Chris. 

Mentally, he hit the snooze button on his next move.

Chris was only gone a few minutes, but by the time he slipped back into the bed, all soft and dry and smelling of pine bodywash, Sebastian was already half asleep.

With his guard down, he didn’t even think to contain the contented sigh as Chris’s arms enveloped him. He turned into the embrace, running a heavy hand over Chris’s chest. _Wow, those pecs are so strokeable,_ he thought, circling them with lazy fingers. His eyes drifted shut.

“So it turns out Bucky likes to top?” Chris murmured, with a sleepy smile in his voice.

That drew a slightly embarrassed, dozy laugh from Sebastian.

“He likes it both ways,” he replied, trailing his finger down to outline Chris’s abs. “But, y’know? I think he loves to bottom. I mean, he’s _really_ good at it.”

That made Chris chuckle. “I gotta say, he seems to be natural. I mean, when you’re with a giver like Steve, it’s kinda hard not to have a good time.”

Sebastian gasped in mock outrage. “Like you didn’t have a good time, too!”

Chris sighed, and stayed quiet for a while. Sebastian’s mind had already drifted into nonsenseland when he thought he felt a kiss to the top of his head, and heard what could have been, “’Course I did.”

*

No alarms today, no call times. They awoke on different sides of the bed, just their hands and feet touching. Sebastian hadn’t wanted to snatch his away, and by the time he realised Chris, too, was awake and staring at the ceiling, it was too late to do so without making things more awkward.  
With nowhere to be, no pressing reason to be up and out, they would have to find a way to muddle through a companionable morning after.

Neither of them moved.

Eventually Sebastian’s mind began to wander, back beyond the events of the night before, to abstract thoughts that had floated around his head ever since his phone call with Dan. Questions began to form on his tongue.

“So… have you dated a lot of guys?” he blurted, suddenly. _Could’ve tried ‘Good morning’ first, Seb._

Chris shot him a surprised glance, then resumed staring at the ceiling.

“Well, because… when I woke up it was all accepted, and legal and everything, so…”

Sebastian snorted before he could help himself. Really? The whole Steve and Bucky thing was starting to wear a little thin.

Chris glanced at him again, startled.

“Oh. Right. Um…. Well. Only a little,” he answered. He chewed on his lip for a second, then rolled on his side to face Sebastian, keeping their feet in contact.

Sebastian nodded. “I guess it wouldn’t be very career-friendly, huh?”

“More like I just didn’t find the right guy. Or girl, actually. Yet,” Chris said. “Why do you ask?”

Sebastian frowned. He wasn’t really sure where the question had come from. 

“Ah, y’know. Curiosity, I guess.” 

Wasn’t this whole thing about curiosity? Exploration? Discovering himself a little? Was he still trying to tell himself that experience was all he wanted from Chris? _Really?_

“Is it… different? With guys?” 

“Emotionally, not really. Practically, it feels more, I dunno, even? You don’t fall into that gender role thing, like, y’know, where you assume you’re gonna drive, or fix things, or pay for stuff.”

All of this made sense, Sebastian supposed.

“And you get, like, about 1000 per cent more blow jobs,” Chris added, with a smirk.

Sebastian laughed out loud at that.

“Sounds good.”

“Mmm hmm.” 

Chris was smiling back at him, honest-faced and happy. He was movie star gorgeous – of course he was – and tiny flaws you’d only notice up close just served to make him more real. More attractive, if that were possible. The beginnings of lines at his brow, the corners of his eyes, the creases by his mouth; the odd ingrown beard hair, the faint asymmetry of his nose. It was all beautiful.

Sebastian got an overwhelming urge to kiss him. Not to initiate sex, particularly, or to pretend that it was Bucky doing it; just… to kiss him. Would that be a problem? Just a gentle press of the lips. Chris would smile, probably. Hopefully. Maybe kiss back a little. Maybe reach out, pull him in, run one hand all the way down to his thigh. 

He bit his lip, shuffled half an inch closer.

Then a jarring electronic chime made them both jump. Chris’s fucking phone alarm.

“Shit,” Chris said, reaching for it.

Sebastian was annoyed at the interruption, and confused. He was almost positive they weren’t due on set that day.

“I got a brunch date with Scarlett,” Chris said, squinting at the screen. “I totally forgot. Sorry.”

Sebastian felt like he’d been kicked in the nuts. Chris, meanwhile, was already half way to the shower.

“Hey, stay as long as you want,” he called over his shoulder.

 _Sure, that would be fun_ , thought Sebastian.

Why couldn’t _he_ have brunch with Chris? They used to have brunch. Why didn’t they do stuff like that anymore? Fucking Scarlett. She wasn’t even sleeping with him – Chris had confirmed as much, last night. 

Last night, when they had said and done some extraordinarily intimate things, only to act all awkward again the next day.

This was so SHITTY. This was exactly why he wasn’t supposed to do this again. Each time they were together made it harder to resist him.

Harder to protect his heart.

What was he supposed to do now? Go back to New York and try to find a guy to date? Ugh. The thought of that made him feel even worse.

He didn’t wait for Chris to come out of the shower; just pulled on his clothes and skulked back to his room to mope. This was _definitely_ the last time.

*

Carlos didn’t bring it up until the penultimate day of shooting.

“You will have noticed that I have shown great restraint in not asking you about your sex life with Chris,” he announced, in between spritzes.

Sebastian was wrong-footed, but he had known this day would come.

“You have,” he replied. “And yet…”

“That was because I was completely burned out with your bullshit, and I thought it was all gonna be sunshine and rainbows now,” Carlos continued, blithely ignoring the jibe. “I thought my work was done. But! Now that I smell the angst rolling off you like Axe in a high school locker room…”

Sebastian wrinkled up his face in distaste and mild offence.

“Look,” Carlos went on. “You and I both know that that man doesn’t let you down in the fucking sack, alright? Sooo….”

He walked around to stand between Sebastian and the mirror, and look him in the eye.

“Why aren’t you happy?”

“I’m happy,” Sebastian retorted.

“Girl, please.”

“I dunno. A little sad it’s almost over, I guess.”

“WHY is it over?”

“We don’t… he wouldn’t want...” Sebastian really didn’t know how to explain the situation. It sounded so dumb.

“Huh.” Carlos went back to running product through the back of Sebastian’s hair. “And what do you want?”

God, why was he finding himself on the spot so much these days? Couldn’t he just ignore that instinct in his gut until it receded? What did it matter what he wanted, when Chris wanted no-strings fun?

“I… I dunno.”

“Well, perhaps it’s time to give that question a little more thought. Hmm?”

Sebastian folded his arms and exhaled, grumpily. Carlos was right, and he knew it. In another life, he was probably a first-grade teacher or something. Or one of those guys at the library that seems to know _everything_.

*

Two more nights left in Atlanta. This one, and then the wrap party. And then what?

Back to reality. Back to sleeping in his own bed, making his own food, doing his own fucking hair. On his own. No reason to cross paths with Chris – he would be in another state, not another floor. The thought of it made him feel hollow and heavy.

Why did it feel so wrong?

_What do you want, Sebastian?_

He rolled onto his front and pulled a pillow down over his head. Of course he knew what he wanted. He wanted to have more sex with Chris. Like, a lot more. And to hang out with him. And also somehow to avoid getting himself hurt.

So what was the opposite of getting hurt?

_You have one night to figure this out, Sebastian._

It wasn’t like he’d never see Chris again. There was the inevitable press tour, and at least two more movies to go.

Was there a chance they could they pick up where they left off, further down the line?

_It’s not enough, though, is it?_

_Sebastian?_

His face was too hot, now, and he needed more air. He threw the pillow to one side and rolled onto his back.

Never in his life had Sebastian had to tell someone he wanted more out of their relationship. He either wasn’t interested himself, or, more usually, girls were falling over themselves to shove him at their parents. Now that he needed to have this conversation, he found he had no idea how. 

But what if he did? The outcome he wanted seemed unlikely, but the worst-case scenario was intolerable. Chris might be so horrified he’d never touch him again. The junket and the next two shoots would be hell. No texts, no calls, no affectionate tweets, no flattering comments in interviews… no more hotel rooms, no more wardrobe department propositions.

No drinks, no late-night conversations, no heart-to-hearts. No grounding hugs.

Even if it was just a gentle let-down, it would still draw a line under their friendship, and that was too much to bear.

_Why’s that? Why can’t you bear the thought of losing what little you’ve got of him?_

_No. Shut up. You don’t need to answer that. Where will that get you?_

It wasn’t worth the risk.

Sebastian sighed and pulled out his phone. Only one thing left to do, then. Delete The Picture, the email, say nothing, put these emotions back on ice.

His thumb hovered. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Someone was knocking on his door.

*

“Hey, man! What’re you—”

Chris was standing outside, chewing on a fingernail. As soon as the door was open, he barrelled into the room and knocked Sebastian backwards, crashing down on top of him and kissing him with force.

Sebastian was briefly paralysed with shock, but within seconds was sliding his limbs around this now-familiar body, kissing back just as hard. 

What the— 

What the _fuck?_

“Sorry,” Chris mumbled. “Um… can I come in?”

Sebastian laughed. He was sure he had been having some deep thoughts, just before Chris disturbed them, but he had no idea now what they were.

“God, like you have to _ask_ ,” he grinned. His pulse was already frenetic, his hands shaking with adrenaline.

Chris kissed him again, so forcefully he went a little dizzy with the lack of air. Sebastian’s body was acting out of habit already, fitting itself to Chris’s and grinding up in the way that always made Chris respond.

“I just wanted to – can I… ?”

Chris was tugging at the button of his jeans, already moving his whole body south.

Sebastian stared down, breathing heavily, until Chris shot him a quick, enquiring glance.

“…Yeah, yeah,” he breathed. He sat up on the edge of the bed while Chris got down on his knees.

Within seconds, Chris had his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs. 

“Um, I just came here to say…” Chris mumbled, then broke off, looking up again with a twinge of amusement.

Shit. This was embarrassing. How the hell had Sebastian got this hard, this fast?

“Yes?” he said, trying to keep a shred of dignity. 

Chris’s answer was to swallow him halfway down, gripping the rest with a practised hand. 

“Well, when you put it like _that_ …”

Holy shit, Chris was good at this. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, except being with him _did_ surprise Sebastian, still. He was never quite prepared for Chris wanting him, or for the raging intensity of his own feelings when they were together.

Jesus. Chris’s tongue was sliding and curling. His lips were so _firm_.

Did he have to go so fast? This was going to be the quickest blowjob Sebastian had ever received.

“Fuck! Slow down! Slow down!”.

Chris sped up.

“Shit—”

Sebastian came, fast and hard and gasping, right into Chris’s mouth. It was all over within five minutes, but those were five minutes Sebastian would not be forgetting, ever.

He noticed one of his hands had woven its way into Chris’s hair. Slowly, he withdrew it and dropped it into his lap.

Chris had a guilty grimace on his face.

“Guuuuuuh. Sorry,” he said, inexplicably.

“Don’t be. God, please don’t be,” Sebastian replied. He collapsed backwards onto the bed, confusion swirling around his head. He didn’t want to think at all. His pants were still halfway down so he shucked them off, yanking his underwear back up as an afterthought.

“Was that OK?” Chris asked, a little nervously, sitting down next to him.

When Sebastian looked, he saw real anxiety on Chris’s face. Suddenly, the confusion receded, and all he wanted to do was make Chris happy.

“Yes,” he said, sincerely. He slipped his fingers around Chris’s wrist and tugged. “It was OK.”

Chris accepted his invitation and flopped down on his side, so they were face to face. They regarded each other for a second, blue eyes calm.

Then Chris smirked.

“Only OK?” he asked.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. 

“Oh my GOD! Alright! It was… excellent.”

Chris made a dissatisfied grimace. “Better, but…”

Jesus, this _dork_. Sebastian started to grin. 

“I mean, you could have drawn it out a little longer.”

Chris feigned insult.

“And there was I, thinking you could go a couple of rounds.”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to look shocked, although his reaction was genuine. Chris’s hand slid, warm, over his stomach.

Sebastian said, “Ohhhh.”

“We gotta rehearse right?” Chris was murmuring, with humour in his voice. “Last day tomorrow. Gotta get it right.”

He shuffled over, and latched his lips to the base of Sebastian’s neck.

Sebastian said, “OK. Yeah. Yes. Please.”

He was languid, just having come, but kissing, touching, skin… all of those sounded… wonderful.  
He tugged weakly at Chris’s shirt. Chris chuckled and stripped to his underwear in moments, while Sebastian struggled to get his own shirt over his head.

“But you gotta pass me the… the…” he waved at his Winter Soldier arm, which lay on the desk near the bed.

“Oh! Right, yeah,” Chris replied. He passed it over shit-eating grin.

It was loose and lightweight; much easier to get into than the heavy, camera-friendly version. 

Sebastian slipped it on, then theatrically grabbed Chris with it and pulled him down in a giggling heap. The solid bulge still confined by Chris’s boxers pressed awkwardly into Sebastian’s inner thigh.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry!” he said, and meant it. “I forgot about… you.”

He caught Chris’s lips for the first time that evening, and his breathing stilled for several heart-thumping seconds.

“S’OK, I can handle a long wait,” Chris said, when they broke apart.

“What?”

“I can chill as long as you want. Decades.”

“Oh my God, are you…?”

“I’m Captain America. I’m referencing the fact that I’m Captain America.”

Sebastian groaned. “Jesus, shut _up!_ ”

Chris wriggled until he was right between Sebastian’s splayed legs.

“Make me,” he grinned.

*

He wasn’t even hard yet, but Sebastian knew he wanted Chris to fuck him. He was just trying to figure out how to ask without losing face, when a realisation struck him. They were in his room now. He twisted away from Chris’s kiss.

“Oh, shit,” he said “I don’t even have –” 

Chris caught his meaning straight away.

“Hang on.”

He disappeared, rummaging around in the pile of discarded clothes, then returned, triumphant, with a familiar-looking bottle in hand. He waggled it in Sebastian’s direction.

“Oh my God, you brought it _with_ you?”

“No, it jumped into my pocket when I left my room.”

“You thought I’d be that easy?”

Chris shrugged and smiled knowingly, as if Sebastian’s weakness went without saying.

“I was hoping for the best!” he said.

“Oh, so you think I’m the _best?_ ” Sebastian grinned, as he lay back again.

“You know you are,” Chris whispered, kissing him.

And his words felt nice. Better than that. Chris had called him ‘hot’ before, had praised his acting, but had never said anything that came so close to real affection. Sebastian was used to framing this thing as a friendly hook-up, at least where Chris was concerned. To guarding against the hope than anything more could happen, even if… even if he wanted it to.

He wanted it to. 

_Oh, God,_ he thought, as Chris lit him up with slow kisses. _I want this. I want HIM. I don’t want this to end, God help me_. A rush of emotion made his nose tingle, made his eyes prick a little. Maybe, in spite of himself, Chris might be getting attached, too? By accident? What did he mean, whispering that Sebastian was ‘the best’ like that, as if it was obvious? Heat of the moment?

Why wouldn’t he say what he meant?

So Steve kissed him all over and licked inside him until his dick got hard again, and fucked him bare, and Bucky could _feel_ it when Steve came, even though he was already coming too, so hard he thought he’d die from it, falling completely to pieces and blurting out the ‘L’ word as he fell.

Afterwards he buried his face in the expanse of chest next to him, and shivered awhile in warm, strong arms. They cleaned themselves off without really looking at each other, or talking. Thankfully Chris didn’t seem to be freaked out, but Sebastian couldn’t really begin to relax until he turned out the light.

They lay awake for some minutes before Chris, or Steve, or whatever the fuck, said:

“So what happens now?”

He sounded serious, like Captain America did when he needed answers. Sebastian stiffened. Why was he even asking? Chris had set the tone for this entire thing. Mr No-Strings. Sebastian was the one who’d threatened, albeit in character, to take it too far. 

What could he even say to that?

He took the cowards way out, and went with humour.

“You’ve seen the script. I go back into fucking cryo.” 

_Me and all my feelings. Until the junket, maybe. Or the next movie. Maybe we can do this again sometime? Whaddya say?_

Next to him, Chris exhaled through his nose.

“I guess, if you really gotta.”

Then his voice turned a little angry.

“That is so fucking STUPID, you know.”

Uh huh. Sebastian could hardly believe it when he read the scene. 

“’M too dangerous,” he yawned.

“I can handle you,” muttered Chris.

“Mmmmm.” _You sure can_.

Sebastian turned towards him, ready to fall asleep, but their mouths found each other in the dark. Their lips brushed, almost accidentally at first, like a soft ‘good night’. Then they brushed again, then lingered. Then the touch became a kiss, first chaste, and then less so, and then they were making out, all searching tongues and wandering hands, until they were so riled up they couldn’t help but make love again, wordlessly, in the darkness.

As he floated to sleep, Sebastian wasn’t sure, but he thought they were supposed to pretend that last one was a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	12. Chapter 12

Getting out of bed the next morning caused Sebastian physical pain. It was early. He’d had far too little sleep, and Chris was so _warm_.

Some strange sense of propriety caused him to take his clothes into the bathroom with him. When he emerged, showered and dressed, Chris was still there. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” he said, and Sebastian didn’t know whether to feel touched or called out by that, and then Chris said “Ah, fuck it,” and gathered Sebastian up in his arms, and kissed him for a full minute, like it was his final act. 

It made Sebastian giddy, caught again between happiness and dread. Something about it felt final. Too much like a ‘thank you, and goodbye’.

Would there be another time? Sebastian felt foolish for holding out hope that they might collide, again, at the wrap party later. Or after it. It annoyed him that this all seemed to be on Chris’s terms, but what could he do? He’d already proved himself incapable of turning the guy down.

He hung back for a moment to give Chris a head start. They were so close to the end, now, but he was still paranoid about getting busted – even more so when he thought he heard voices out in the hall. He took his time, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, one, two, three times, before squaring his shoulders and striding out of his door. Straight into the least discreet person in Hollywood.

“Carlos! I… did not know you were staying on this floor,” he said, trying hard to feign composure.

“Could say the same about Chris!” smirked the stylist. 

Sebastian blushed a little, but kept his jaw defiant. Carlos rolled his eyes. 

“Oh my _God_ ,” he began. “So I get back to my room last night, and it smells kinda funny? You know, like, musty? So I turn on the light, and the fuckin’ shower has, like, burst a pipe or something, and it’s soaked into the carpet AND half of my floordrobe. So I call reception – almost in _tears_ , by the way – and explain to them I can’t possibly sleep in such a damp atmosphere, and _eventually_ … they give me the empathy I’m looking for and move me. Up here. Right next to YOU.”

He jabbed at Sebastian’s chest with his finger.

“…So. As you can imagine, I’ve had about as much sleep as you guys,” he finished, folding his arms and pouting.

A cold wave of mortification washed over Sebastian. It was too early for this level of humiliation. How thin were these walls? Oh _fuck_ , did Carlos know about the… role play… thing? 

He floundered, eyes bulging.

“Oh, God, Carlos, I’m so—”

A hand gripped his arm, and he realised belatedly that his hair stylist was quaking in silent hysterics. Sebastian just stood there, wondering where his life had gone so wrong. 

Eventually Carlos calmed down. 

“Aw, sweetie!” he spluttered, wiping his eyes and blinking rapidly. “That was amazing!” He wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck, earning a robotic pat on the back.

“I couldn’t hear anything!” he said, in Sebastian’s ear. “I have earplugs and I sleep like the fucking _dead_.”

He released Sebastian and brought his hands together in front of his mouth, eyes still dancing with amusement.

“Your _face!_ God, what did you guys get up to last night? I kinda wish I’d heard, now.”

Sebastian shook his head as his complexion returned to its natural shade, and his lungs started working again.

What had they got up to? Everything and nothing. The sex had been better than ever, which was saying something, and the atmosphere between them had felt so warm that that tenacious little glimmer of hope had sputtered to life again. But in the cold light of morning, it already felt as though they were back to square one.

“Oh, you know,” he replied, bitterly. “Nothing that matters.”

Carlos picked up on his tone and narrowed his eyes. 

“Walk with me,” he said.

The two of them paced along the hall to the elevator, aware that Sebastian’s call time was coming around fast.

“Tell me again what your problem is?” Carlos asked, as they waited for the elevator.

Sebastian shook his head. “Look, we’re friends. Fuckbuddies. It’s fine.”

“Mm hmm,” said Carlos wearily. The bell pinged to indicate the elevator had arrived.

“So you’re just shovelling all your lame feelings into the freezer, so you can haul them out later in therapy?”

Sebastian winced. The doors slid open.

“Look, it’s not up to me, is it? He’s not exactly trynna… y’know, trynna _date_ me or anything.”

They stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. Inside, Carlos’s pitying expression bounced off three mirrored walls, leaving Sebastian nowhere to hide. He was lit with an orange glow that didn’t feel like any time or place from the real world.

Carlos flung his hands up and sighed, loudly. 

“That’s because he’s as dumb as you are!” he said. “I mean, the guy may be _stupid_ gorgeous and surprisingly gifted in bed, but he will DIE before he’ll impose on someone he really cares about. You know? He’ll hang on _forever_ waiting for you to make a move.”

Sebastian shook his head and began to laugh. Chris was the confident one, here. That couldn’t be it. 

Could it?

He paused, and frowned. This was a viewpoint he hadn’t really considered. He’d always put the rosy glow Chris gave him down to the guy’s natural tendency to make people feel good. But…

Hope glimmered again. Stupid hope. Goddammit, he _wanted_ to think Carlos could be right.

“And YOU!” Carlos was still talking, and apparently reading his mind. “You gotta love yourself some more, my friend. You’re making me look bad, here.” 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. His brain had jammed a little, transfixed by the idea that _Chris_ could actually be holding something back. Carlos pressed on.

“I don’t often say shit like this, but you’re sweet as hell, Seb. The two of you _almost_ make me want to believe in true love.” 

He smiled, and reached out to arrange a stray lock of Sebastian’s hair.

Sebastian grabbed his wrist. “Hold up, Carlos, did Chris actually _say_ anything to you?”

The stylist rolled his eyes. “Look, we haven’t exactly _talked—_ ” 

He trailed off and tilted his head, as if having an epiphany. 

“Huh,” he finished.

The elevator pinged like a lightbulb moment, and the doors slid open to reveal the hotel lobby. Carlos strode out, with Sebastian following behind. It was early, but one or two hotel staff and a couple of makeup artists from the movie were milling around out there.

“I _swear_ Sebastian,” Carlos called over his shoulder, “If you guys are not a super-nauseating couple by the end of today, I’ll… rescind my position as flamboyant non-white magical friend. For GOOD!”

He turned with a flourish and stalked towards the door.

“Wait! You wanna… share a car to the studio?” Sebastian called.

“NOPE,” Carlos answered, and kept walking. 

Sebastian stopped still in the middle of the lobby. The bright lights, the bland furniture, the succulents… it all sent his mind spinning back to the hotel lobby in Berlin, the morning after the night before, when he’d given Chris completely the wrong impression of the way he felt. 

Chris’s face, first puzzled, then hurt. That creeping feeling that he was missing something important. What in the _hell_ was really going on here?

“Fine, I’m getting coffee anyway,” he muttered, but Carlos had already skipped out through the revolving door.

*

Sebastian expected to find Carlos waiting for him in his dressing room, so he was surprised when he found it deserted. He sat and sipped his rapidly cooling coffee and fiddled with his phone, getting more and more agitated. 

He was getting used to it now, feeling the ghost of Chris’s presence in his body; the ache and the surprise spikes of pleasure that followed a night of passion. It made him twist in his chair.

Why would Carlos talk like that? Hinting and implying all the time that Chris might want to be with him, when all along he didn’t really know for sure. God, he was full of shit. As soon as the guy turned up, he’d tell him to butt out.

There was a sharp knock on his door, and without waiting for an answer, Kirsty breezed in, pushing a trolley full of hair products.

“Hi Seb,” she trilled, in a sing-song tone, as if addressing a little child.

“Um, hi,” Sebastian replied. “Where’s Carlos?”

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” she said, affecting a pout. Then she sniggered.

“He told me this morning he had to switch with me because, and I quote, he ‘couldn’t bear to look at Sebastian’s hobo hair for one more day.’”

She pulled up her trolley and stepped up and bent down, bringing her face close to Sebastian’s, and pulling at two strands in the front of his hair. Her heavy bangs hung in a straight line skimming her shaped eyebrows, and her wide blue eyes gave him the impression she was trying to stare into his soul. 

The effect was very unnerving.

“So he’s… doing Chris today?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Kirsty giggled again.

“Why, you jealous?”

Sebastian flushed slightly, but kept a straight face and didn’t answer. What was that supposed to mean? Why had Carlos gone to see Chris? To _talk_ to him?

His pulse quickened and the realisation that maybe Carlos’s meddling might fuck everything up for good.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe…

Kirsty began combing her fingers through his hair, looking down at it critically.

“I guess there’s not much we can do with this,” she sighed. “So, what’s going on with the two of you, anyway?”

“Whaddya mean?” Sebastian flinched. He was so on edge he almost bit her head off. This thing of theirs really wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge. 

“Oh, you know,” she said, airily. “You were so _cute_ together at my party, I just thought…” 

“Well, you thought wrong,” Sebastian snapped back. Too late, he plastered on a smile and caught her eye in the mirror.

Kirsty raised her eyebrows. “My mistake,” she said.

Kirsty chattered away after that. Yes, she’d read the dailies, because of course, she was a professional. She knew that today was all about reshoots, mainly in the Siberian bunker. She wasn’t exactly sure how long Bucky’s hair had been last time they’d shot footage for this part, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t go far wrong.

Sebastian nodded and grunted along, barely listening. His head was scanning through all his interactions with Chris over the past few weeks, and for once, it wasn’t getting distracted by reliving the sex scenes. Was it possible, after all, that he’d misread? Could he even trust his own mind?

What the fuck was Carlos up to right now?

By the time Char, his makeup artist, arrived, he was going nuts. He had to catch Chris before they started shooting, clear the air. 

“Morning!” sang Char.

“Yeah, hi…, hi,” Sebastian smiled. “Um, could we… get this done as quickly as possible, please?”

*

The moment Char was done, Sebastian leapt out of his chair and sprinted for the door. With any luck, he’d catch Chris before they headed to wardrobe to put on their costumes. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he did know that he was _tired_. Tired of this movie, of not getting enough sleep, of performing, of pretending, of second-guessing, of trying to shut down what he felt. Somehow, he had to get the truth out before he and Chris went their separate ways.

Chris’s dressing room was only a few doors along, but he’d had a head start on Sebastian that morning.

Skidding to a halt at Chris’s door, Sebastian raised his hand to knock, then froze. Carlos was in there, talking to someone. Someone who didn’t sound like Chris. 

Glancing either way along the hall, Sebastian pressed an ear to the door.

“I can’t believe this. They’re actually gonna fuck it up!” came Carlos’s voice from inside, loud and dramatic as ever. 

“Fucking bisexuals, man.” 

Sebastian recognised the slightly acid voice of Maxwell, the set dresser, whose tendency to gossip with Carlos had sent him into a spin all those weeks ago. 

Bisexuals. Huh.

He strained to hear more.

“I TOLD him,” Carlos was saying. “Sebastian is _dying_ for them be totally gross sweethearts.”

Sebastian’s stomach lurched. He’d been so careful, so keen to make sure Chris wouldn’t find out how he felt. Hell, it had taken him this long to really admit it to himself. 

Carlos, however, had apparently known it before _he_ did. And now he’d gone and told Chris all about it.

Sebastian started to sweat. He couldn’t deny that a part of him wanted Chris to know, or at least, wanted a hint of how Chris was feeling. He just wasn’t sure he was ready for the decision to be taken out of his hands.

“He wasn’t happy?” Maxwell said, his voice a little hard to hear.

“Ugh, he wouldn’t _believe me_ ,” Carlos replied. “He was just, like, ‘did he _say_ that?’ and so I was all like, ‘not in so many words, but you know, pretty much.’ But he just shut me down, like, ‘you’re reading into it.’”

“God! So clueless! Are you _sure_ this guy isn’t straight?”

Outside in the hall, wild and breathless, Sebastian stifled a giggle.

“I _tried_ , OK? But fucking Annie came in and started fucking around and he stopped talking. I dunno.” 

He sounded more serious now. Sebastian pressed closer to the door, desperate not to miss anything. 

“He thinks it’s all a big experiment for Seb. Like he’s just in it to work out if he likes dick.”

Maxwell snorted, but outside the door, Sebastian began to prickle again with that low-level dread. Had he misjudged, somewhere along the line? It was as if he’d been out of the room when everyone else learned what was really going on. 

He held his breath, anxious not to miss a word.

“I mean, he’s been so tragically in love with the guy for _years_.”

Sebastian stiffened, his jaw dropping open. What the _fuck?_

His hand tightened on the door handle. Carlos was definitely exaggerating, fucking drama queen. There was no _way_ …

“How do you know that?” Maxwell asked, voicing Sebastian’s thoughts.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like he’s actually _admitted_ it, but he really didn’t have to,” Carlos replied. “Look. He might have… mentioned Seb’s name to me before.”

“Oh, he _mentioned_ it?”

“At an… unfortunate moment.”

There was a silence, then a screech of laughter rang out from inside the dressing room. In the hall, Sebastian’s face was so hot he was in danger of sweating off his makeup. Was this what it… sounded like?

“Oh my GOD, Carlos.”

Sebastian clapped a hand to his mouth in horrified glee. _Fuck_. He’d got over his jealousy of Carlos weeks ago, but _this_ … well, now he just wanted to laugh.

Did it mean anything?

“What? I don’t care,” Carlos chirped. “I’m not the one that’s pining to death here. I’m just a sucker for secret Hollywood bi boys, you know?”

“Maybe it’s just a sex thing,” Maxwell said. “Are you _sure_ you’re not trying to make something out of nothing?”

Carlos sighed heavily.

“Please,” he said. “How often am I wrong?”

There was a silence, which Sebastian knew to mean that meaningful looks were being exchanged. 

His pulse was racing so fast it was making him nauseous. What was he supposed to think now? Could it really be true that this whole thing between him and Chris, the whole no-strings thing, was based on a huge misunderstanding? Or was it all a figment of Carlos’s imagination?

When Maxwell spoke again, his voice was louder, as if he was approaching the door.

“Those assholes do not deserve you,” he said.

“I know,” Carlos replied. “But Maaaax… they’re so _prettyyyy!_ ”

With a jump, Sebastian realised they would be walking through the door any second. Even worse, there couldn’t be more than ten minutes until his call time, and he wasn’t even in costume. He snatched his hand off the door handle and sprinted off down the hall towards wardrobe. 

There wouldn’t be any time, but he couldn’t go another hour without knowing for sure where he stood. He needed to speak to Chris. 

*

Sebastian made it through wardrobe in record time, pulling on Bucky Barnes’s makeshift tactical gear with shaking hands. The heavy arm always took a while, but he and the team were practised now with lubeing him up and sliding it on, so he made it out of the door only five minutes after he was technically due to appear. 

He dashed through the warehouse to the studio and burst through the door. Thankfully, the team as still making final tweaks to the set. Siberia. The elevator down to the bunker. They were going to start by reshooting something that would surely result in fewer than ten seconds of film, which involved Bucky and Steve standing face to face in a small space. Fantastic. 

Sebastian casting his eyes frantically around, his chest heaving from the exertion of getting over here so fast. The room was dominated by an expanse of green screen. He spotted the usual people hanging around, waiting to be useful. Carlos was there, as well as Kirsty, Annie, Maxwell and countless others, fiddling with equipment or chatting earnestly to each other, but where was…?

There. 

Chris stood off to one side, mercifully by himself. Sebastian rushed over to him.

“CHRIS!”

Oof, that came out louder than he intended.

A handful of crew members turned their heads in his direction. Chris looked up, startled by the urgency in Sebastian’s voice. He had his Captain America mask pulled down over his face, making his expression hard to read.

“There he is!” called Anthony Russo from the set. “We need you guys over here in about 30 seconds, alright?” 

Chris ignored him.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

Sebastian stumbled over to him, sick with nerves. He hadn’t even though about what to say, but it didn’t matter, because his mind had gone blank anyway – he just knew he had to say _something_. Anything.

If he could just get his breath back.

“Can we talk?” he panted. Dammit, why did his voice have to wobble like that?

“Sure, but, uh… we’re on camera any second.”

Sebastian cursed. There were people all around, but this couldn’t wait. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

Then he went for broke.

“I… we’ve got it all wrong!” he blurted. 

Chris frowned. “What?”

“This…” Sebastian gestured frantically between them. Chris looked more puzzled.

Sebastian looked around them, anxiously. Most people had the grace to at least pretend they weren’t listening.

“Berlin!” he hissed, through gritted teeth. “The, uh, the morning _after_. Chris, I was so wasted that night, I… forgot.”

“You _forgot?_ ” Chris’s voice was low and confused.

“I know! God, I know, it’s awful. I remembered later! But when I saw you, I… didn’t… I honestly didn’t…”

Sebastian’s heart was in his mouth, his body quivering with adrenaline. He couldn’t get his words out fast enough. Couldn’t make sense. Through the eyeholes in his stupid mask Chris was watching him intently, trying to understand.

“Chris? Sebastian? We’re ready for you now,” called Anthony.

“Just a sec,” Chris called back. Neither of them took their eyes off the other.

Sebastian dug the nails of his right hand into his palm, and forced himself to keep eye contact.

“I… shit, I made you think I didn’t _care_ ,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “And then _you_ said—” 

Chris’s expression slowly morphed into one of shocked realisation.

“ _I_ said—” 

“—no strings,” Sebastian finished. 

He stared, imploringly, silently begging Chris to understand.

“Chris! Sebastian! We’re ready to go,” called Anthony. 

“C’mon guys, let’s get this done. You can talk after,” added Joe.

Sebastian’s mouth was dry, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Chris was blinking, stunned. Slowly, he straightened, and turned to walk over to the set.

No. They couldn’t possibly leave it at that. Desperate, Sebastian moistened his lips and grabbed Chris’s arm.

“I _do_ care,” he said.

Chris froze.

In that slow-motion moment, it almost didn’t matter how Chris reacted. Sebastian felt elated, as if that was all he’d ever had to say. What he should have said weeks ago.

“I do,” he repeated, low and faint.

Chris was staring at him, utterly incredulous. He looked around, gesturing at the room as if to say, ‘Are you serious? _Now?_ ’

Sebastian swallowed. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Do you?” 

Chris didn’t move.

“GUYS!”

Someone was at Sebastian’s elbow, shepherding him over to his mark. The room was a blur. White noise crackled in his head. He was tired, and he wanted to go to bed. He needed coffee. What was he supposed to be doing, again?

And then he was standing opposite Chris again, face to face, inches from each other. Being told to hold his position. Chris was staring at him, a pained expression on what was visible of his face. 

“Chris…” he said, faintly.

“Ssshh! Quiet, please,” Joe admonished.

Sebastian closed his mouth. Desperate as he was for a resolution, he really didn’t want this conversation to be picked up by any stray studio mics.

He stared at Chris, trying to scan him for any clues to what he might be thinking.

“…Ready? OK, so we’re gonna hold for about five seconds, then Chris, you open the gate, and you both walk through. That’s it. Alright? So….. Action.”

They stared at each other. Chris’s eyes looked agitated, his mouth open as if he was trying to speak.

“Cut. Close your mouth please, Chris. Calmer, Sebastian. Go again.”

Sebastian’s heart was racing. Out of the whole entire shoot, of all the stunts and combat and the water stuff and tears, _this_ was the toughest moment he’d ever spent on camera. What the hell was Bucky feeling right now? Here, in the scene? He could barely even call the character to mind.

_Get it done, Stan. THEN you can have your heart-to-heart in private._

“OK, action.”

He tried to read Chris’s expression. Was he intrigued? Horrified? What the fuck was going to happen now? He started to feel a little light-headed, and ground his jaw to try and focus.

“Cut.”

Anthony sounded dissatisfied. Sebastian looked over at him for the first time that morning, and saw him frowning at the monitor.

“It’s not quite working.”

No shit. He couldn’t even remember what he was supposed to be doing. Chris’s eyes were still fixed on him, wide and questioning, and his mouth kept opening and closing.

 _Sorry_ , he mouthed. Chris stared.

“Something’s wrong here. You’re kinda… too… scared? I don’t think Bucky’s gonna panic right now. He’s too used to danger and fear. And Chris, a little… braver?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, tried to calm himself.

“I mean, you’re right, this is scary. You don’t know what you’re gonna find down there. But more importantly, you guys are together again after all this time. You understand each other, right? Brothers-in-arms on another mission that could save a lot of lives. It’s more of a… grim purpose kinda vibe.”

Chris rubbed his eyes for a second, and took a breath.

“OK, Joe, understood.”

He glanced at Sebastian and gave an enquiring head tilt. Sebastian answered with a nod.

“We’re good. Let’s go again.”

They went again. Sebastian tried to keep focused, but this time he could barely hold Chris’s eye.

“CUT!”

This was ridiculous. This was the easiest scene in the movie, and they couldn’t get through it. What the hell was going through Chris’s mind right now? Had he even explained himself? There was nothing he could do about it now. Either there was a chance his feelings were reciprocated, or else things were completely fucked. He just wanted to know which.

Breathe.

The Russos were in a huddle. He looked back at Chris, beseechingly, hoping for some wordless communication that would make everything OK.

“OK guys, we’re gonna try something else.”

Oh God. He was going to have to concentrate. The both turned to face the director.

“I’ll tell you what, guys,” Anthony said. “Remember in the last movie? When we shot that wartime scene where you just hang out as, y’know, Chris and Seb? And we got that cute footage of Steve and Bucky laughing together? We managed to get a really natural moment that way.”

In spite of himself, Sebastian smiled at the memory. That brief clip was one of his favourite parts of Cap Two.

“So we’re thinking… forget all the baggage for a second, forget the characters, just… try it as if it were just the two of you.”

Chris frowned.

“Ok, sure, but what would we be…”

“I just wanna try it!” Anthony replied, his voice increasingly high-pitched. He was already getting impatient with the number of little reshoots they needed to get through that day. “Indulge me. Just the two of you, riding in an elevator together, without talking. I mean, obviously you’re not joking around, like last time – maybe you got a fucking hangover or something. Should be easy, no? I’m sure you’ve ridden in an elevator together before.”

 _Of course they had_ , Sebastian thought. _The last time was probably after Kirsty’s party, on the way back to Chris’s room._ He was in the middle of the most stressful situation he could ever remember, but still the memory made his dick twitch. 

Running both hands through his hair, he squinted back at the director.

“So you want us to just… do what we’d do if we were alone in an elevator?”

His pulse was thumping. He shot a sideways glance at Chris, who looked just as wired as Sebastian felt.

“Yes! Yes. Exactly that. Let’s give it a try. OK, everybody?”

They shifted on their feet, and turned to face each other again. Chris’s eyes were wide under his mask. Sebastian saw the tip of his tongue flick out to his lower lip.

_Forget all the baggage. Forget the characters._

_Just the two of you. Riding in an elevator together._

“And…. Action.”

Time slowed down, and all Sebastian could hear was his heartbeat in his ears, like the relentless, booming bass at Berghain.

He lifted his eyes to Chris’s and something snapped into place.

Fuck it all.

Sebastian lunged forward to grab Chris’s face, but Chris had moved first; before he could get his balance, gloved hands were on his hips, and familiar lips were crushing his. That super-powered tongue was in his mouth, and his heart was too big for his body. Something had carbonated his bloodstream.

Chris.

He stopped doubting, stopped thinking, and melted. 

There was a moment of silence, punctuated by scattered gasps. And then…

Out in the studio, a sound rushed into focus. What started as a dim echo became an eruption of jubilant applause, getting louder, sharper, and people were whooping and whistling like he and Chris had won a war.

To Sebastian, it was a completely appropriate soundtrack to this moment. He’d leapt, and Chris had caught him. Or maybe they’d caught each other. Irrepressible joy welled up from his stomach to his chest and he soared, higher than he’d ever been.

Chris cared, too.

They broke apart briefly to grin at each other, then kissed again, slower this time.

“OK, cut! Cut, dammit, CUT!” Anthony, bless him, was trying hard to rein in the room. Chris’s hands moved to Sebastian’s ass and didn’t let go. They kissed some more, such as they could with matching grins.

“Alright guys, good one for the gag reel,” Joe called.

“PUT IT IN THE MOVIE, YOU COWARDS!” shouted Carlos from the crowd, prompting another wave of cheers.

Sebastian yanked at Chris’s chin strap until it came free, then, still kissing him, pushed back the helmet to expose his face.

“Oh God, the helmet hair!” wailed Carlos. “It’s like a car crash. I can’t watch but I can’t look away!”

Chris laughed at that, and Sebastian laughed, too, wild with happiness. They pressed their foreheads together and swayed in each other’s arms like slow dancers.

“Is that what you were looking for?”

Chris’s voice was raised, as if he was talking to the director, but his eyes were twinkling at Sebastian. Sebastian bit his lip, grinning, and nodded his confirmation. His costume was too heavy, too tight to contain the surge of feelings expanding in his chest.

“Not really!” called Anthony.

The onlookers were settling down a little, but Sebastian slowly became aware that all eyes were on them. Not that he gave the remotest fuck.

“Hmmm, you know, Anthony, I think I’ve come to understand the undertone of sexual tension in this movie,” Joe said, loudly.

“THANK YOU!” called a woman who sounded like Kirsty.

Laughter rippled around the room.

“OK!” said Anthony, his voice strained. “Now that we’ve got THAT cleared up, can we PLEASE get this scene in the bag? If we don’t wrap this thing today I am actually going to have a nervous breakdown.”

Chris still had Sebastian by the waist.

“OK, Anthony, let’s go again,” he said, mirroring Sebastian’s idiotic grin. “I think we’re gonna nail it this time.”

*

Sebastian floated through the next few hours of filming. His concentration hadn’t improved any, but performance-wise, he could do no wrong.

The Cap suit had lost none of its effect on him, but now the nervous uncertainty he used to feel around Chris had been replaced with an edgy thrill. Chris’s smile in between takes made him weak at the knees. When Chris surreptitiously looked him up and down, he felt like he’d leapt off a bridge on a bungee cord. 

The end of the day couldn’t come around fast enough. He just wanted to get Chris on his own, so they could talk properly. 

It was late afternoon when the Russos were finally happy with the final day’s footage.

“OK team,” Anthony said, “That is a WRAP, praise Jesus. Great work, everybody.”

Amid the general celebration, back-slapping and hi-fives, Chris strode over and flung his arms around Sebastian. It was the first time they’d touched properly since their brazen kiss on the set that morning, and Sebastian found himself caught between a deeply emotional sense of homecoming, and an awkward boner.

“You gonna make out with me in front of everybody again?” Chris murmured in his ear. His words combined with the warm puff of his breath made Sebastian break out in goosebumps all the way down his neck.

He brushed his lips along Chris’s jaw. 

“Well, I’d rather make out with you in private,” he answered.

Chris chuckled.

“I can tell you right now that I’d be very into that,” he replied.

*

They passed separately through wardrobe, leaving their costumes behind for the final time. When Sebastian emerged, Chris was waiting for him, with his hands in his pockets and his smile like sunshine. His stomach fluttered happily at the sight of him; a delicious feeling he hadn’t had in years.  
He would have leapt on him then and there, were it not for the presence of Chris’s assistant, Josh, who made an awkward show of hanging back when he saw Sebastian approach.

Instead, they wandered out of the studio together with stupid grins on their faces, bumping arms with every step. When they reached the parking lot, the light was beginning to fade.

“Um, sorry to interrupt, Chris…” said Josh, hastily. “Your car is gonna be a few minutes late. So, uh, you gonna come with us, Seb?”

Sebastian shrugged and nodded.

“OK then!” blustered Josh. “I’ll just be… over here… checking my phone.”

He stepped away from them, and Sebastian turned to bump Chris’s chest with his shoulder.

“Oh my God,” he smiled. “Did _everyone_ around here know about us?”

Chris was looking over his shoulder into the middle distance.

“I guess so,” he said, thoughtfully.

Sebastian turned to follow his gaze. Framed in silhouette against the early evening sky stood a figure in drainpipe jeans, ripped at the knee, a shirt that seemed to be riddled with precisely arranged bullet holes, mirrored aviator shades and some kind of feathery earring. He was regarding them with folded arms and a huge grin on his face.

“Oh God,” groaned Sebastian. “Let’s go give our acceptance speech.”

They wandered over, falling easily into step. The sun was falling behind the trees and vast equipment trucks, casting long shadows across the tarmac.

“Took you long enough, even with my subtle and empathetic encouragement,” Carlos said, once they were in earshot.

Laughing, Chris grabbed him around the middle and lifted him off his feet.

“Ugh, so _strong_ ,” said the stylist, squeezing at Chris’s bicep. “Pin you down real good with those, huh Seb?”

He pulled his shades down his nose and winked at Sebastian, who flushed pink.

“Hey, I work out,” he mumbled.

“Oh my _GOD_ , he _does_ ,” mock-swooned Chris. Carlos giggled, his feet still dangling in the air, and Sebastian blushed harder.

Chris put Carlos down and flung an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders, prompting their heads to incline towards each other. The stylist clasped his hands together over his heart.

“Aw, _look_ at the two of you,” he cooed. “Y’know, some things are just destined, no matter how hard you try to fuck them up.”

“So, uh, I guess this is where we say thank you, and you were right?” Sebastian said.

“No! No.” Carlos waved a dismissive hand. “You don’t have to thank me. My purpose on earth is to tell stories through the medium of hair design, and to spread love.”

Then something else seemed to occur to him.

“I’ll tell you what, though – in a couple years, when you’re bored of each other and need to spice things up in the bedroom, you give me a call, alright? I am _serious_ here.”

“So selfless,” Sebastian said.

“Hey, I’m a fucking angel from heaven.” Carlos waggled a finger at him.

Out of nowhere, the faint strains of ‘Bitch, I’m Madonna’ began to play. Carlos frowned and felt for his back pocket, pulling out his phone. When he saw the screen, he jerked upright. There was a new excitement in his voice.

“’Scuse me a sec, guys, I have to take this.”

He wandered a few steps away, talking animatedly into the phone. “Wait, are you _serious?_ When? Next week? Hang on…”

With Chris and Sebastian looking on in amusement, he dropped the phone from his ear and jabbed at it, then ran around the corner of the studio building, just out of sight. A second later, a joyous, ear-splitting scream rent the air.

When Carlos re-appeared, he was as collected as ever.

“OK, great! I’ll see you next week,” he said, into the phone, before hanging up. He skipped back over to Chris and Sebastian, waving his hands excitedly.

“OH MY GOD! IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING!” he squealed, jigging on the spot.

“What? What’s going on?” asked Chris.

“My next gig!” Carlos said, gesturing wildly with his hands. “God! I always knew fate was guiding my path.”

“What’s the gig?” Sebastian said.

Carlos paused, and puffed up his chest.

“You… are looking at….” he began, solemnly, “the _chief_ hairdresser… on the next…. JAKE FUCKING GYLLENHAAL MOVIE!”

Chris and Sebastian burst into spontaneous applause.

“Thank you, thank you,” he said, pretending to wipe his eye. “I feel like that guy really needs me, y’know?”

Sebastian stepped up and hugged him firmly.

“Congratulations, man,” he said. “You’re gonna nail it.”

Carlos squeezed him back, then pulled away with a cocked eyebrow.

“Imma do my _best_ ,” he smirked. “And my best is pretty damn good, right Chris?”

Chris rolled his eyes, while Carlos continued his victory dance. Sebastian grinned. Nothing could possibly kill his loved-up vibe right now.

“You wanna get a ride to the hotel with us?” he asked.

“No, I got a ride,” Carlos winked. “My friend’s picking me up.”

Right on cue, a showroom-shiny dark blue Cadillac Sedan came gliding into the parking lot. Carlos waved a hand as the car circled them and came to a stop a few feet away.

“Hi baby,” he trilled. Turning back to Chris and Sebastian, he peered at them over the top of his shades. 

“He has a wine collection,” he whispered, fixing each of them with a knowing look. Then he gave them each an ostentatious kiss on the cheek before turning towards the car.

“Oh, hey!” he called, over his shoulder. “You guys going to the wrap party later?”

Chris and Sebastian exchanged glances, and Sebastian glowed pink as he felt Chris take his hand.

“Don’t think so,” Chris replied, smiling at him. “I think we’re gonna… get dinner?”

Sebastian nodded his agreement, beaming.

“Awwww, OK. Well, then I guess I’ll see you in Revolver. Boy’s Town.”

He got in the car and wound down the window.

“IT’S A GAY BAR!” he called. “FOR GAY PEOPLE!”

His voice faded as the Cadillac pulled away towards the exit. The sun was setting now, throwing up oranges, pinks and purples into the Atlanta sky, and Chris and Sebastian squeezed their linked hands and waved as Carlos and his friend disappeared over the horizon.

“So… where do you wanna go to eat?” Sebastian asked, still looking at the sunset. “I mean, we can have anything.”

“Anywhere,” answered Chris. “Really. Anywhere you want.”

He tugged Sebastian around to face him, and reached out for his other hand, so he could hold them both. He was fidgeting, swinging their joined hands back and forth, looking up at Sebastian and then down at the floor. Sebastian just grinned, stupidly. 

Finally, Chris found his voice.

“Being with you was so… I thought it was too good to be true,” he said. 

Sebastian laughed, light-headed and breathless. “Oh, man!” He shook his head. “It’s really not!” 

Chris quirked an amused eyebrow.

“I mean, no! Shit. It’s good. Of course it’s good. It’s _amazing_. But, uh, it’s… also… true?” Sebastian stuttered. “I mean, it’s real. You know?”

His cheeks were flushing now, but he ploughed on.

“I wanna try this, Chris.”

“God, yes, so do I. I really do.”

Chris was grinning broadly, now. His face creased into that beautiful, sunshiney laughter.

“I’m just so fuckin’ happy, Seb.”

Sebastian beamed.

“Me too.”

They veered closer together until the only thing to do was kiss, and Sebastian let himself feel it, really feel it. Trust it. Let it flood him and surround him and lift him up. Christ, even the kisses with this guy were a headline act all on their own.

All the tension and longing, and uncertainty that had plagued him for weeks had ebbed away, replaced by the flutterings of something exciting and new. Sebastian had no idea where they would go from here, but just having Chris return his feelings was overwhelming. Anything was possible, now. Everything was alright.

When they finally separated, Chris was looking mischievous.

“So, uh, you’re gonna keep the arm, right?”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows in mock shock.

“We got two more movies, Seb. We gotta keep up with these guys.” Chris insisted. _I don’t make the rules,_ his face said.

Sebastian giggled.

“Nobody’s noticed it’s missing yet…” he replied. 

He leaned forward for another kiss, slipping his tongue against Chris’s lips until they parted, and things started to get a little heated.

“Y’know what?” Sebastian muttered, tugging a little at Chris’s waistband. “I changed my mind about dinner.”

“Yeah?” 

Chris’s hands slid down onto his ass and grabbed hold, pulling them even closer together, and Sebastian realised that _knew_ him, knew exactly what he wanted. That they really were on the same page at last. 

That in a way, they had been, all along. They just hadn’t bothered to read it properly.

“Yeah. Let’s just get room service,” he said, between kisses.

“Fuck, yes,” Chris replied. “We can do whatever we want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


	13. Epilogue

Sebastian awoke to daylight streaming through his bedroom windows. He must have forgotten to close the blinds the night before. 

Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked out contentedly at his somewhat neglected roof terrace, and beyond it, the comforting silhouette of Manhattan. A single row of New York skyscrapers between him and the Hudson; Central Park just a few blocks behind.

Down below, the city swarmed and rumbled. Car horns competed with pneumatic drills and wrecking balls, random bursts of music, helicopters, voices raised in different languages, chattering, yelling, trying to get your attention – but up on the 50th floor, it was peaceful. 

Open the balcony doors at this time of year and the sound of the wind would swirl in eventually. It always made Sebastian wistful. He was lucky, he knew, to be up here, to have all this.

Lucky to be home. In his own bed, with his pillow, and his duvet, and no obligations. No-one expecting him to be anywhere, or do anything. No gym, no call time, no more chicken and fucking broccoli. He’d slept better than he had in months.

He scratched at his chin and ran a hand absently down the warm skin of his chest. His body felt… really amazing, as if he’d had hours of deep tissue massage and a scrub down, or been through a violent brawl and come out on top. He gave himself a minute to soak up the feeling of deep satisfaction permeating his whole being.

His hand trailed lower, coming to rest on his stomach. _Breakfast, that’s an idea. Or brunch, I guess_. He swung a leg out and pushed himself up to a sitting position, but almost immediately, a large, warm hand slipped over his hip and around his waist, pulling him back down.

He went with it, rolling over to land inches away from the most beautiful face he knew. A pair of blue eyes, squinting against the light. The dopey smile of a man who had climaxed more times in the previous 24 hours than Robert Downey Jr had fancy cars; which is to say, more than you might think necessary, or even possible, for one person.

Sebastian knew that feeling; he’d discovered it very recently himself. He grinned back.

“Where the fuck are you going, Sebastian Stan?” growled Chris. His stubble was already beginning to grow out, the way he liked it. Sebastian stroked at it with his thumb, revelling, as he did so, in all the hot, sensitive patches on his body where that stubble had been.

“Mmmbreakfast?” he murmured. 

Their bodies fell back together like magnets, limbs and tongues and skin sliding easily over each other, interlocking.

“In a minute,” Chris whispered into his mouth.

“’Kay,” Sebastian grinned back.

They kissed for a while, unhurried and dozy, until Chris found the energy to roll himself on top.

“Again?” Sebastian smirked.

“What, you don’t wanna?” 

He ran a finger lightly along the length of Sebastian’s dick, which lay, rock-hard, against his stomach. It made him shiver.

“OK, you got me, maybe I… OH!”

Warm fingers wrapped around him and Chris began to stroke, slow and lazy. Sebastian moaned softly, already surrendering to the irresistible tide of pleasure. Vaguely, he wondered to himself if he would always be this weak under Chris’s touch, or whether the day would come when he would have the power to pull away.

Why would he want to, though? 

Half-joking, he attempted to start a conversation.

“Whatcha wanna do… after?” 

“Hmmm, I dunno…” 

Chris always seemed to keep his composure a little bit longer. It would be annoying if Sebastian wasn’t already mesmerised by the long, slow push and pull of Chris’s hand on him.

“I never walked along the High Line,” Chris said, his voice low and dirty. “You could show me. Get ice cream and sit in the park?”

His hand began to move a little faster, and Sebastian’s sighs grew louder.

“MoMA? Go for dinner? Catch a movie? Come back here and fuck all night?”

Unable to hold back, Sebastian smashed their mouths together. When he pulled away, he reached down to grip Chris’s dick with one hand, and used to the other to steady himself against the headboard.

“Sounds great,” he gasped. “Uh… skip to the last part?”

“Sure,” Chris breathed, his own voice starting to catch. “New York ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

He groped blindly under his pillow where he’d last stashed the lube, and waved it in the air with a victorious flourish.

*

“These shots are amazing,” Sebastian said, settling back against Chris’s chest. 

On the screen before them, a yellow cab was gliding through the neon-lit, rain-slicked streets of 1970s Manhattan. A haunting saxophone played as the iconic voiceover kicked in. 

“…So atmospheric. Hey, did you know there was garbage strike when they were shooting?” Sebastian said, bringing his feet up under him on the couch. “ _And_ a heat wave? All those garbage bags you see on the sidewalk are, like, real.”

He took a thoughtful swig on his beer. “Must have _stunk_.” he went on. “It’s like this city always comes through for Scorsese, man.”

“Huh,” said Chris, reaching into the bowl of popcorn in Sebastian’s lap. “I guess that’s why DeNiro looks so disgusted all the time.”

Sebastian snorted and shovelled a handful of popcorn into his own mouth.

“I get it now,” Chris mumbled, still chewing. “He’s managed to convince everyone he’s this genius actor, but really, guy’s just… sniffing fuckin’ garbage.”

Sebastian guffawed and nudged him in the ribs.

“What?” Chris grinned. 

Sebastian turned to him with a crinkly smile, his eyes hooded.

“Nothing. Just… I love this.”

Chris smiled back, and they sat like that for a few moments, grinning at each other.

“Me too,” Chris said, leaning over to press his lips to Sebastian’s.

*

Chris went to take a shower, so Sebastian was curled up on the couch with a coffee and a book when his phone buzzed.

 **Dan R:** Hey man where u at??? You back in town? We need MAJOR debrief lol

The message wasn’t very funny, but Sebastian chuckled at it anyway. He thought for a second, then sent back a rapid reply.

 **Me:** I’ve been back like a week. In bed mostly

He went back to his book, but it wasn’t long before Dan answered.

 **Dan R:** WTF Marvel workin u too damn hard

Sebastian grinned. He was going to enjoy this.

 **Me:** …. Not Marvel

This time the replies were instant.

 **Dan R:** !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **Dan R:** WHAT

 **Dan R:** IS THAT MAN IN THERE WITH YOU OMG SEB

 **Dan R:** IS IT TRUE LOVE OR WHAT

 **Me:** We walked around the block to get coffee yesterday and he held my hand

 **Dan R:** FUCK YOU SEBASTIAN

Sebastian almost spat out his coffee with laughter.

 **Me:** You wish. That spot’s taken sorry

 **Dan R:** UGH NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN I AM SERIOUS THIS TIME

Sebastian put his phone down and sat back. He couldn’t recall one of Dan’s fake tantrums lasting longer than ten minutes. Sure enough, five minutes later he heard the telltale vibration of an incoming message.

 **Dan R:** So you guys wanna have brunch tomorrow?

He gazed at the screen for a moment, feeling a surge of deep affection for his friend. The bathroom door opened.

“Hey, Chris?” he called out, “You wanna hang out with my buddy tomorrow?”

Chris appeared in the doorway with wet, tousled hair and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Sure! That’ be great!” he beamed. 

Sebastian took a second to enjoy the view. Chris hadn’t had to wax for this movie, and Sebastian still hadn’t got over his appreciaton for the dark hair that adorned Chris’s pecs, trailing suggestively down between his solid, chiselled abs. Like, _damn_.

 **Me:** Sure man love to

Dan’s reply appeared in seconds.

 **Dan R:** YES! I got a date with Chris Evans!

Sebastian frowned.

 **Me:** And me too, asshole

 **Dan R:** I’M GETTING A SELFIE

 **Me:** With both of us?

 **Dan R:** Sure babe it all counts for Grindr profile

*

The sound of the apartment’s buzzer wormed its way into Sebastian’s consciousness, rousing him from a very pleasant couch nap.

“What… who’s that?” he croaked.

Chris groped for his phone on the coffee table, and glanced at it. “D’Agostino,” he said. “Ugh, did you drool on me?”

“Wha… you… ordered groceries? To my apartment?” said Sebastian. The idea felt really pleasant, for some reason.

“I’m cooking!” Chris shrugged, by way of explanation. He sat up and clocked Sebastian’s dopey grin. “What? We can’t live on pizza forever.”

He clambered to his feet, reached for the nearest hoodie and pulled it on, before padding over to the door. Sebastian settled back down on the couch and closed his eyes.

“OK, but I’m cooking tomorrow,” he mumbled.

“I knew you’d say that. S’why I ordered noodles.”

Sebastian didn’t bother to open his eyes, just raised his middle finger. Then he thought of something.

“Oh! Chris!” he called out. “Here. Door locks itself.” 

He fished in his pants pocket for his apartment key and tossed it over, secretly tickled when Chris caught it casually with one hand. Then he turned over on the warm couch and dozed a little more.  
The door re-opened a few minutes later, and Sebastian opened one eye to spy Chris with four bulging grocery bags. 

“So, where do you hang the, uh…” Chris asked, holding up the key.

“Oh, just… y’know. Keep it.” Sebastian yawned, waving a dismissive hand. “I got another one.”

Chris pocketed the key and turned to go to the kitchen and unpack. Sebastian glimpsed him smiling to himself before he let his eye fall shut again.

“Hey! Did you know D’Agostino sells lube?” Chris called out.

The smile on Sebastian’s half-asleep face spread into a full-blown grin.

*

“So… I gotta go back to Boston for a while,” Chris said, one day. “See the family. You know.”

Sebastian’s stomach flipped over and sank like a stone. This had been so wonderful, he knew it couldn’t possibly last; living with Chris in a bubble of next-level sex, delicious junk food, conversations and goofy banter, half-naked TV watching, the occasional foray into the city. 

He wasn’t _surprised_ , then, when Chris started to talk about leaving, but he was a little blindsided by the desolation it brought him.

Sure. He understood. This didn’t have to mean things would go back to how they used to be. Chris would keep closer in touch this time, he was sure. Maybe even Skype. He’d started to feel like something big was growing between them, and he hoped that that wouldn’t get lost.

Anyway, it was probably a good thing. He needed to get back to the gym. Get a haircut. His body could do with a rest too, from all the sex. Maybe. Yeah.

He swallowed.

“OK,” he said, trying to keep the sadness out of his smile.

“And I was thinking…” Chris went on, a little tentative, “Maybe, would you wanna… come with me?”

Sebastian blinked. His stomach bounced back and broke out in butterflies.

“Figured we’d rent a car,” Chris said. “Do a little road trip together, you know?”

A lump rose in Sebastian’s throat and he blinked some more, embarrassed by the prickling around his eyes. Chris’s face was suddenly close, his hands sliding under Sebastian’s shirt and holding him firmly at the waist.

The invitation wasn’t such a big deal, really, but it felt like a lot.

“Seb?”

He snapped his gaze up to Chris’s.

“Please come with me,” Chris said, his eyes clear and earnest.

Shit, Sebastian hadn’t even given an answer.

“God, I… yeah. Yeah, I’d love to,” he said.

Chris looked ridiculously delighted.

“Great! Cos, I think I’m actually ready to introduce you to my dog. And that is a very big deal.”

Sebastian nodded, seriously. 

“OK, man. I’ll do my best to make a good impression.”

“Nah, you won’t have to,” Chris said, sliding his arms around Sebastian’s lower back. “He’s gonna love you. _Madly_.” 

His mouth found the base of Sebastian’s neck, making him melt; making him hook an arm around Chris’s shoulders and lean against him.

“You think so?” Sebastian said, dreamily.

“Oh yeah. He’ll take one look at you, and he’ll know.”

“Know what?”

Chris paused for a second.

“That his goal from now on is to make you happy,” he murmured.

Sebastian giggled, feeling kinda drunk. He swayed slightly in Chris’s arms, and thought to himself, yeah, this is it. I’m happy.

“He sounds kinda basic,” he said, resting his cheek on Chris’s shoulder.

He felt Chris shrug his agreement, heard the contentment in his voice. 

“He has his qualities,” came his amused reply.

“Yeah, I know,” Sebastian sighed. He mouthed his way up Chris’s neck to his jaw, seeking out his lips.

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna love him back,” he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna let Chris have the last word.

**Author's Note:**

> Please say hello on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapologistldn)! 
> 
> Posts relevant to this work are tagged [#ICBAWYW](https://escapologistldn.tumblr.com/tagged/ICBAWYW)


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